


The Great Iron Sky

by tinyace, untiltheveryend



Series: 30's Alternate Universe [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 30's AU, Alternate Universe, F/F, Other, the rise of Hitler in Germany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyace/pseuds/tinyace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/untiltheveryend/pseuds/untiltheveryend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30’s AU. 16 January 1930, a string of failed job interviews leads Laura Hollis to walk into a dimly lit bar, over thinking her life and her choices. When a girl with shadowed eyes and a voice like rough velvet sits down next to her, neither of them yet realizes that sometimes a small choice can lead to the biggest changes in life.   </p>
<p>Or, as the terror of Hitler in 1930’s Germany rises and Europe scrambles to prevent another war, it has never been more dangerous to be ‘different’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** Because of the time-setting this fic deals with a lot of very painful things. This includes anti-semitism, homophobia, mentions of abuse and violence, slurs, pejoratives and explicit language, emotional manipulation and widespread discussion of nazi policies and actions. Please keep yourselves safe if these subjects are triggers for you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Notes:** This story is co-authored by [Fem](http://bannedfromzoos.tumblr.com) and [Elli](http://ellianderjoy.tumblr.com). While the characters do not belong to us, the story is wholly our own. However, in the interest of historical accuracy the newspaper articles throughout the story are based on real articles from Dutch (don’t ask) newspapers of the time. For more information / a good laugh, [go here.](http://bannedfromzoos.tumblr.com/post/108740496415/announcing-the-creampuff-weekly)
> 
> Title partially inspired by both [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQzZk69P69E), and Charlie Chaplin’s film The Great Dictator (1940).

Vadum Francorum – _Unemployment in Wall Street_  


NEW YORK, 16 Jan. 1930 – The crisis in Wall Street has caused steep rises in unemployment. Since the collapse of the stock market in October and November last year there has been great pressure on the financial market. 15.000 employees have already lost their jobs and the number is increasing every day. Last quarter, The United States experienced a $88.8 million decrease in the value of gold, and Germany, alongside other countries, has been exporting gold to the United States to try and return balance to the stock market. These measures will hopefully avert an international crisis.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Miss-?”

“Hollis,” Laura tells him with a smile.

“Miss Hollis,” the man sighs. His face is red and his stomach bulges around the edge of his desk as he pages through Laura’s resume.

“Unfortunately, you are not suited for this job. Your education in journalism is good and your resume is impressive. But you lack experience. We simply cannot take any risks in times like these.” 

Laura swallows and nods. “I understand.”

She picks up her briefcase and reaches out to grasp the man’s hand. She reminds herself to keep her friendly smile. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

They shake hands and Laura leaves the office with heavy feet. It isn’t until she exits the building that she allows the smile to drop from her face. After a week of rejections, the pretense was starting to get her down.

As she walks through the industrial side of Frankfurt in the direction of her apartment, all Laura could think about was the fact that her rent was due at the end of the month. Unless she somehow found her way into a job in the near future, her cramped apartment would no longer be hers.

Her eyes turn to the city around her. The cold winter sun makes everything bright and sharp, tracing out the angular shapes of the street corners. The clear lines and silhouettes seem so sure of themselves, arrogant in the face of Laura’s own lack of purpose.

Laura surprises herself when she decides to walk into a bar. Normally, it would never occur to her to do such thing, especially not at this hour on a Thursday. The bar is full of smoke and a few people line the room, none of them the kind of people Laura wishes to get to know. She settles down on a stool and lets out a deep sigh, drops her head forward onto the bar. 

“What can I get you, Miss?” The bartender asks.

Laura drags her head up from the bar. “What’s the cheapest way to get drunk?” 

“Beer, I guess” he tells her with a wry smile.

“Great,” Laura says. “I’ll have that.” 

The bartender gets her drink and puts the glass in front of her. He takes in the way her head is pillowed on her arms, and gives her a knowing look.

“Rough day?”

“Yeah,” Laura says shortly as she takes a sip of her beer. She turns her eyes down to her drink, because she just doesn’t feel like talking right now. Was it always this horrible finding a job? Obviously the unemployment rate had gone up in the last few months, and she had expected it to be difficult, but there was something draining about constantly getting rejected. And it wasn’t as if she would be a bad employee either, every time she applied they applauded her resume. Yet still no job. 

She is still staring down into her half-empty beer, and contemplating her failures when someone sits down next to her.

“Another whiskey, please,” they say, in a voice that takes Laura by surprise. Thick and dark, and nonetheless kind of beautiful. It is the kind of voice that makes her wonder about the person speaking.

“Coming right up,” the bartender calls.

Laura glances up, despite herself. The girl sitting next to her is absolutely stunning. Black curls, a low dark fringe that is casting her eyes into shadow in the dim light of the bar. It is more than the delicate shape of this girl’s face, though. It is the way that she is holding herself, a kind of gentle sense of control and mystery.

The girl notices Laura staring and smiles at her.

“Hey,” she says, and her tone slides upwards like she is giving Laura an opportunity not an obligation.

Laura smiles back slightly sheepishly. “Hey.”

The stranger turns away for a second to take the whiskey that the bartender is sliding towards her, and Laura sucks in a quick breath, tells herself to calm down already.

“What brings you here?” The question is delivered with a small gesture around the smoky room.

“Just life getting me down, I guess,” Laura says with a slight sigh. “Landing my dream job isn’t going very well for me.”

The girl nods, and takes a sip of her drink.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Laura.”

“Alright, Laura. I’m Carmilla,” the stranger tells her, and Laura thinks the name sounds foreign and bright. “And I guess I would have you know, that all the best things in life are the hardest.” 

From Carmilla this almost sounds poetic. Laura knows that if she were to say the same thing, it would be nothing but cheesy.

“Yeah well, I’m kind of trying not to lose my apartment right now,” Laura lets out a nervous laugh and taps her fingers on her drink. “I mean, I could always take a shitty job as a cleaning lady somewhere, but that would mean wasting four years of education and money.”

She realizes that Carmilla hasn’t taken her eyes off of her since she started talking. It makes her slightly nervous, but not in a bad way.

“Quite the struggle,” Carmilla concedes before breaking eye contact and taking another sip. “May I ask what you applied for?” 

“Oh, just a small local newspaper,” Laura says lightly. “I’m trying to become a journalist. They say it’s the lack of experience and the market being low, but I’m starting to wonder if-”

Laura leaves the sentence unfinished. She probably shouldn’t be saying stuff like that in a public bar of all places.

“Men being afraid of women finally taking a stance and actually rising to power?” Carmilla finishes Laura’s sentence, as if it is the most mundane thing in the world. “Oh, definitely. Men are desperately trying to cling to the power they have left.”

Laura stares at Carmilla in disbelief. Did she really just say that out loud?

Carmilla slightly shakes her head. Her voice is lower in volume, but heightened with mystery as she says, “Losing battle if you ask me.”

Laura takes another sip of her beer, but realizes it’s already empty. She coughs awkwardly and puts the glass down again. It’s ridiculous how nervous she feels around this girl. She watches as Carmilla finishes her drink. Even the way she puts down her glass has an air of mystery to it. 

“Anyway, you should never shoot low,” Carmilla tells her while getting out her purse. She gives a nod to the bartender. “I’ll pay for her next drink as well.” 

“Oh you really don’t -”

“I already did.” The words are accompanied with a hint of a smile.

Carmilla gets off the stool and before she walks off she gives Laura one last intense look.

“Shoot for the stars.”


	2. Change and Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it’s a hot summer and chance looks a whole lot like fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings:** Emotional manipulation/abuse.

Völkischer Observator – _The Reichtagswahl is nearing_

WARSAW, 12 Aug. 1930 – In a month’s time it will be Reichtagswahl. The German federal election will take place on Sunday 14 September, and at the Völkischer Observator our hopes are for a big win for the NSDAP and its leader Adolf Hitler. Germany is in a state of despair. The unemployment rate keeps rising and as of 1 August this year 2.775.000 Germans are unemployed. We should not accept these numbers. In an interview Hitler explained his ideas and wishes for the future of Germany. They were as followed: the Treaty of Versailles and the Young Plan should be dissolved and the limitations on armature should be banned. Furthermore he wishes to build a strong national army. All non-German races and elements should be removed from German public to create room for the 20 million Germans who are without land, or the opportunity to build a home. To these 20 million wishes Hitler will listen and will look for aid from Russia in the East. If NSDAP gains votes in the upcoming election Hitler will be able to implement these suggestions and we will rise as one nation, as the Third Reich. 

“Frau Meijer?” Laura cautiously leans past the partly open door. “I’m finished for today.”

The woman looks up from her paperwork. “Your shift doesn’t end until five, right?”

Laura silently curses in her head, because she really doesn’t want to lie yet again. 

“I know, but I asked you permission a few weeks ago to leave earlier today,” she explains. “You see I am going to visit my father today. He had this whole day planned to go to the theatre and-”

“Oh yes, your father,” Mrs. Meijer cuts in when Laura shows no signs of stopping. “Yes I remember now, please give our best regards to him.”

Laura lets out a small sigh of relief. “I will!”

She goes to close the door, but suddenly remembers something and peeks her head back through. “And don’t worry Frau Meijer, I’ve cleaned the entire house as usual.”

Frau Meijer smiles at her. “As we’ve grown to expect from you. Have a wonderful day with your father, dear.”

Laura quickly closes the door, because if she has to tell another lie to the sweet Mrs. Meijer, she will probably let the truth slip out. But Laura couldn’t think of an appropriate way to tell her current boss she was taking time off to go to a job interview. 

Laura slips out the side door of the the house, or perhaps more accurately the mansion, and straddles her bike. She needs to go back to her apartment, change clothes, and cycle to the other side of the city in just under an hour. Just possible, if she hurries. 

She takes a turn and muses that it’s a good thing she knows the route between the Meijer’s house and her apartment by heart now, because her mind is wandering off again. 

Shoot for the stars. Shoot for the stars. Why did those words constantly occupy her mind the last several months? Not just those words, but the person who said them as well. She couldn’t seem to forget about the mysterious girl from the bar, whose words had influenced her so much that right now she was on her way to a job interview at Vadum Francorum, one of the biggest newspapers of Germany. She must be absolutely out of her mind. The fact that she even got an interview was crazy enough. 

She would never get a job that good. She should probably get used to cleaning for Mrs. and Mr. Meijer, a job she only got because of her father. If it weren’t for his connections she would have lost her apartment, so really she should be grateful that she had a job at all, especially with jobs so few and far between at the moment. But she was allowed to dream, right?

Of course if she kept dreaming at the moment, she was probably going to stack her bike and be late for the interview. Eyes on the road, Hollis. 

\--

“Ms. Morgan will see you now,” the secretary announces.

Carmilla takes a deep breath and slides out of her chair. She stands and walks towards the door, while wishing she was anywhere but here. If only it were possible. 

She grabs the doorknob and glances at the brass plaque on the door. It reads, Lilita Morgan. Director of Vadum Francorum. Most people, however, would know her better for her presence amongst the social elite of Germany. 

She enters the room and closes the door behind her but doesn’t step further inside. The woman behind the desk is presiding over a large pile of paper work, the picture of a powerful executive. Carmilla however, knows her for something entirely different than the plaque on her door describes.

“Mother,” she says, somewhat proud of herself for not choking on the word.

Lilita looks up and a smile curls up on her face. “Darling, how wonderful of you to come.”

Carmilla bites her lip. As if she had a choice. 

“Well, you asked for me.” 

“I did,” Lilita replies and waves her over. “Sit down, sweetheart. We’re family after all.”

Only because you took me in, back when you had some decency, Carmilla thinks. She sits down in front of her mother’s desk and wishes she didn’t have to be quite so close. Lilita puts the pen she was holding down and folds her hands. 

“So,” Lilita begins and looks Carmilla straight in the eyes. “I hoped you could give me an update on your current affairs.”

Right. It was going to be this kind of conversation. Carmilla keeps her eyes trained on her hands, or the clock on the opposite wall. Anywhere but her mother. 

“Good.” 

“Good,” Lilita repeats slowly.

The silence in the room is killing Carmilla more than whatever Maman could say next. Her mother takes this opportunity to give her a long look, watching how Carmilla squirms under her gaze.

“I need a little bit more than that,” Lilita says finally, and Carmilla feels like she is able to breathe again. “I thought I taught you proper manners.”

Carmilla immediately straightens up in her chair and clears her throat. “It’s good. It’s fine. I’m doing my job.” 

“I need more than good, sweetheart. I need results.” That wicked smile crawls up on her face again. “You think you can do that?”

She immediately nods. “Of course. I’m right on it.”

“Good.” There it is again; using Carmilla’s own words against her.

Lilita turns her eyes back to her desk, waves her hand dismissively. “You can leave now. I’ve got an important meeting with my film department in five minutes.” 

Carmilla is on her feet in a second, has to stop herself from running to the door. Just before she can open the door and flee the office of terror, Maman attacks her one more time. In the back.

“I’ve saved you before darling,” her Mother says in that warning voice Carmilla knows all too well. “That doesn’t guarantee I’ll do it again.” 

Carmilla doesn’t turn around, just bites her lip and quickly nods before leaving the office.

\--

Laura can’t seem to keep her leg still. Is she sweaty because of the long cycle or because of the nerves? Both. Probably both. She takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down. It wasn’t as if she actually had a shot at the job, so why should she be nervous? She lets her eyes slide around the waiting room. She can tell there are a few other applicants, but not as many as she had expected there would be. 

A door slams open and it catches Laura off guard. She glances up and has a second shock when she recognizes Carmilla. The girl who told her to aim higher is here. They are both here. She looks like she’s in a hurry though, maybe it was best not to say something. It’s not like they know each other, Carmilla has probably forgotten all about Laura by now. But she could at least thank her for inspiring her, right? Don’t embarrass yourself, Laura. She hasn’t looked up since she walked through that door. Laura, don’t you dare.

“Hi!”

Too late. 

For a second Carmilla looks scared, but maybe that was only something Laura imagined, because a moment later there is definitely a small smile on her face. 

“Hey,” Carmilla says and stops in front of her. “Long time no see.”

Laura nods and says enthusiastically. “I took your advice. I’m here to apply for a job.”

“I see,” Carmilla says. “Well, best of luck.”

Carmilla looks like she’s about to walk away, but now that Laura has her attention, she doesn’t want to give it up.

“You never told me you worked for a newspaper.”

This seems to catch Carmilla’s attention, because suddenly she doesn’t seem to be in such a hurry anymore. 

“I haven’t told you a lot of things about me.”

It’s that mysterious smile on her face that makes Laura’s brain go completely fuzzy.

“Well, maybe you should.” 

Carmilla pretends to consider this for a moment. “I could. But I’m afraid it would mean I’d lose my air of mystery.”

Carmilla gestures towards the office where the applications take place. “Just say you’re a friend of mine. That’ll help.”

“A-are we?”

“What? Friends?”

Laura tries to hide her blush, watches that hint of a smile appear on Carmilla’s face again.

“If you want us to be.” 

She lifts her hat and is already walking away when Laura interjects.

“Wait!”

Carmilla turns around for the second time and meets Laura’s eyes. Yet nothing in that look feels invasive to Laura, just curious. 

“Can we meet up sometime?”

Carmilla’s smile broadens.

“Why not?”

The door of the office opens and a booming voice calls into the waiting room. 

“Laura Hollis.”

Laura gives Carmilla a quick smile and turns to walk over to the office. As she reaches the door, she quickly glances over to where Carmilla was standing, but she has already disappeared.

  


Frankfurter Neue Zeitung - _Tiredness of Heat_

27 Aug. 1930 - Have you ever asked yourself before why so many people can bear the heat better than you do? They are never jaded or tired, because their nerves are stronger than yours. If you, even on the warmest of days, want to feel fit and lively, you have to strengthen your nerves! SANATOGEN will help your body and nerves become strong and healthy. It will help you on even the warmest days and will revitalize your mental health and joy in life! Strengthen your nerves with: SANATOGEN. The nerve revitaliser food. (Available in all pharmacies 1 DM per packet). 

Laura is in the middle of contemplating getting up and finding some ice, when a knock on her door startles her. She gets up to answer, and hopes that whoever it is doesn’t mind she is only dressed in some shorts and an undershirt. She is trying to remember if she accidentally invited someone to visit, but then she opens the door and sees it’s just Perry, holding out a decorated cake with a wide smile.

“Congratulations on the job, sweetie!” Perry says and gives her an awkward hug around the cake.

“You heard?” Laura asks, pleasantly surprised as she embraces her back.

“Of course I heard. I could hear your enthusiastic yelling in my apartment!” Perry says, brushing invisible crumbs from around the cake.

Laura laughs. “I’m so sorry about that, I forgot to be quiet in my excitement.”

“Oh don’t be, I totally understand. It’s your dream job after all.”

Laura still can’t believe it. The letter telling her that she got the job as a junior editor at _Vadum Francorum_ had only arrived a few hours ago. Somehow it still feels like a dream she could wake up from at any moment.

“Come in, come in,” Laura says quickly when she realizes Perry is still standing outside her apartment. “Come and enjoy the tropical sanctuary that is my home.”

“Your apartment too? It’s such a hot day, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Laura says while closing the door behind Perry. “How did you not melt while baking that delicious-looking cake?”

Perry puts the cake on Laura’s table and smiles. “Oh, it wasn’t so bad.” 

“You want water?” Laura asks while heading to the kitchen. 

“That would be wonderful, yes,” Perry says while sitting down.

Laura disappears into her kitchen and gets two glasses out of the cupboard. “You know, I thought for a second I’d fallen back in time. I still remember the day I moved in and you were standing at my door, welcoming me to the flat with those delicious chocolate brownies. It was so thoughtful of you.” 

“It was nothing,” Perry says with a shrug.

Laura returns with two glasses filled with water and a knife to cut the cake. “Whenever my father visits me now, he hopes you’ve baked me something again.”

Perry smiles. “He’s become a regular in my shop.” 

“Well, I don’t blame him,” Laura says while she carefully cuts the cake. “Your baked goodies are the best in all of Frankfurt.” 

Perry’s eyes light up momentarily at the compliment, but after a second her face falls. “Too bad business is so slow at the moment.”

Laura slowly tilts her head and meets Perry’s eyes. The NSDAP-folks had been spouting anti-semitic bullshit for a while now, and their views were getting more and more popular.

“But with the economy being so down, I can totally understand,” Perry continues. “People don’t really have the money anymore to buy luxurious baked sweets. I’m sure it will pass soon.”

Laura gives her an encouraging smile and marvels at her optimism. When neither of them speaks again, Laura takes the opportunity to serve them each a slice of cake. 

“No plates?” Perry asks.

“Nah, it’s too hot to move and get some,” Laura says. “I was going to clean my apartment tonight anyway.” 

Perry smiles and taps her slice gently against Laura’s, a toast with moist chocolatey cake instead of champagne flutes. 

“To your new job,” Perry says. 

“And this delicious cake,” Laura adds. 

The cake is wonderfully rich, and Laura thinks she kind of prefers it to champagne anyway. When Perry finishes her piece she sweeps all the crumbs together. 

“So, how did you get the job?”

Laura almost chokes, because telling the actual truth might seem a bit strange. Perry doesn’t know Carmilla, so she would have no idea how her presence could have such an impact. 

“Well, I saw an advertisement and thought to myself I might as well take a shot and apply. I mean, you can always try, right?” Laura says. 

“Right.” Perry says, smiling at Laura to continue while she gets up to pack away the cake.

“So I sent in my resume and after a few weeks I received a letter inviting me for an interview,” Laura continues. “The guy taking the interviews reminded me a bit too much of all the other men who invited me to an interview.” 

Laura frowns at the thought of all her failed applications, and takes a moment to be glad her time applying for jobs is over now. “I got pretty nervous - well, I was already nervous - but I rambled a lot. I even dropped a name at one point that I thought might help me out. I’m not sure if it was a good or bad thing… It may be the reason I actually got the job,” Laura suddenly realizes. 

Perry raises her eyebrows. “Since when do you know people in high places?”

“I don’t,” Laura says, and then wonders if that is the truth or not. She hadn’t really considered why Carmilla had told her to drop her name. She’d thought it was because Carmilla worked there, but Vacum Francorum was a big newspaper, dropping the name of an ordinary journalist wouldn’t be a big deal. Carmilla was quite the mystery indeed.

Laura realizes Perry is staring at her, waiting for an answer. “It was just a girl I accidentally ran into.”

Perry nods. “You mean like a friend?”

Well, she had received a note from Carmilla two days ago wherein she’d invited Laura to meet her for coffee next week. That would count as friends, right? She should definitely thank Carmilla for helping her get a job. The thought of meeting Carmilla again is actually making her feel a bit lightheaded.

“Yeah,” Laura says, with a dreamy smile. “Like a friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be weekly on Wednesday at 5:00pm EST. For updates please check the [Carmilla 30s AU](https://www.tumblr.com/search/carmilla+30s+au) tag on tumblr.


	3. Returns and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dictators rise to power, love is far from simple and a risky truth is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** Misgendering

L’Observateur de Paris - _A New Wind Blows Through Germany_

6 Mar. 1933 - Yesterday, the people of Germany went out to vote, after Hitler urged for new elections when he was appointed Chancellor on 30 January. The results showed that NSDAP is once again the biggest party in Germany, with 43.91% of the votes and 288 seats going to the party. The second biggest party is Otto Wels’ SPD with a total of 18.25% of the votes. Even though NSDAP has gained over 17,2 million votes and is the biggest party by a long shot, Hitler still wasn’t able to reach his goal of an absolute majority. Meanwhile, rumours have circulated that members of the NSDAP party have been involved in violent acts towards both the Communist Party and the Social Democrats. Such acts of violence may have caused many German citizens to refrain from voting yesterday. These rumors can neither be confirmed nor denied by this newspaper.

  
LaFontaine stands in front of a small house and knocks on the old wooden door. The doorbell doesn’t work, they already tried it. They hear stumbling coming from within the house and a few seconds later the door creaks open. 

“Who’s there?” The man’s voice is thick with the local accent.

“Good morning sir, I’m the doctor you called. For your child.” LaFontaine tells him politely, although there is something about the man’s brusque greeting that makes LaF want to be rude. 

“Well, come in then,” the man says.

“Please tell me about your child’s symptoms,” LaF says as they step through the door into the small dark house.

“He’s been coughing for weeks. Always sitting down or in bed, never helping around the house,” the man grumbles as he leads LaFontaine through the house to a small room, where a young boy is lying under drab grey sheets.

LaF steps into the room and kneels down beside the bed.

“Hello.” They give the boy a warm smile. “I am Doctor LaFontaine, and I’m going to make sure that you are doing alright.”

LaF turns back to the father and asks, “How has his breathing been?” 

The man just shrugs, and LaF turns away in frustration, dismissing the man entirely as a source of useful information. 

LaF opens their medical bag, and takes out the stethoscope, warming the cool metal between their hands as they speak to the young boy. 

“I am just going to use this to have a listen to your breathing, okay? It might be a little bit cold.” LaF presses the stethoscope against the boy’s chest. “Take a big breath for me. That’s right. And again.”

They listen closely to the sound of the boys breathing and frown slightly at the coarse sound. 

“Very well done,” they tell the child, smiling. 

LaF turns back to talk to the father, drawing him into the hallway where they are out of earshot of the young boy. Before they can speak, the man interrupts loudly. 

“You’re not a man, you are a woman! You must be a nurse or some nonsense.” The man scowls at them. 

“I am a _doctor_ ,” LaFontaine corrects him. “I have studied at the University of Sorbonne and rightfully earned my medical degree like any other doctor. Now if you could please refrain from wasting my time, I am here to help your ill child, not to be wrongly accused by their awful father, whom apparently cannot understand the importance of a professional no matter what gender, because of his old-fashioned views.”

The man splutters slightly at their words, apparently speechless.

“As for the state of your child, I can’t believe you waited this long before calling me,” LaF continues, with considerable heat in their voice. “His lungs are most certainly infected, no doubt helped along by your insistence he help around the house rather than get the rest that he needs. He will need at least ten days complete bed rest.” 

The man makes a face at this, as if he’s about to protest, but LaF cuts him off before he can speak. “I will be coming around to check personally that my instructions are followed. I have some medicine here that you will need to give him every morning to ease his discomfort.”

This time, as LaFontaine pauses to rummage through their bag for the correct bottle, the man remains silent.

“I will be seeing you soon, sir,” LaFontaine promises, with a sarcastic emphasis on the last word, and turns to march out of the house without a backwards glance. 

\--

There is a knock on the study’s door. LaF sighs and doesn’t bother to look up from their writing.

“Margot, I told you I wished to not be interrupted this afternoon.”

The door opens slightly and LaFontaine takes a deep breath, because Margot means really well and is a sweet girl, but she could use another lesson or two in common etiquette.

“Surely you have time for your husband?” a voice says that is not at all Margot’s.

LaFontaine looks up in surprise and sees Jean-Pierre hesitantly standing in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob in case LaFontaine still wants him gone.

“JP?” LaFontaine asks, a smile spreading across their face. Before he can reply, however, LaF stands up and runs into his arms.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back until Thursday.”

They hug each other tightly and JP kisses them on their forehead. He smiles at them as if they are the greatest gift in the world.

“Well, I told my men I could simply not be separated from my wife any longer.”

The word stings, even though he means well. He always means well.

LaFontaine forces the smile back onto their face and looks up into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re home safe again. How was the front?”

“Just the usual,” JP says, but LaF’s sees a hint of a white lie in his eyes. “Although I’m afraid I’ll be sent back soon with everything that’s going on in Germany. The general is afraid of a revolution.” 

LaFontaine huffs. “Lets hope not. They had their fun in 1914.” 

“Anyway, I want to hear all about what you’ve done in those two months I’ve been gone,” Jean-Pierre says. “Shall I ring up Margot to bring us some tea in the lounge?”

“Actually,” LaF says. “I feel like walking instead.”

\--

The French countryside is beautiful, maybe especially because of the overcast day. It’s like spring is slowly waking up, still throwing off the thick blanket of winter. The breeze makes it maybe a bit too cold for a walk, but it feels nice to be able to stroll again with Jean-Pierre after such a long time.

“What is wrong, Susan? You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

LaFontaine tries to ignore their old name. They hate it. It’s not theirs. They didn’t choose it. 

“Since you’ve been gone I’ve actually been thinking,” LaFontaine starts. “And it’s actually the reason I’ve been a bit upset today.” 

“Well, you should tell me,” Jean-Pierre says and LaF knows he is genuinely concerned.

They take a deep breath. 

“I’ve come to realize I prefer gender-neutral language,” LaFontaine says. “I think it is ridiculous that the world is divided into men and women. I’ve never been compelled to either side, and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

They glance over at Jean-Pierre. He nods and encourages them, “Go on.”

“And lately I’ve been thinking, I prefer to be called doctor. Or anything else that doesn’t indicate a gender,” LaF says and looks to the side. “If that makes sense.”

“I think it does,” Jean-Pierre says. “But you just totally outshined my news of a possible promotion.”

LaFontaine’s mouth drops. “You got promoted?”

JP scratches the back of his head. “It’s not anything official yet. But Monsieur Colbert has told me he is going to retire as lieutenant general, and he wants me to be his successor. It’s probably going to take another year or two before I can take on his role, but it’s going to happen.”

LaFontaine squeezes his hand. “I’m so excited for you.”

“As I am for you,” JP squeezes back. “I would never want to make you uncomfortable, so please tell me what to do.”

“Well, first off I don’t want to be called Susan anymore,” LaFontaine says. “I prefer the name LaFontaine Armitage.” 

He gives a small nod. “Noted.” 

“And I-,” they suddenly stop in their sentence and sigh, “I feel so stupid asking you all this. I shouldn’t be complaining. I shouldn’t even been talking about this.”

Jean-Pierre stops them from walking and looks them in the eyes. “No. It matters to you. Clearly you’ve thought this through. I want you to be happy and comfortable, and if gender neutrality makes you happy, then it shall be our way.”

“It’s just,” LaFontaine swallows. “This morning the father of one of my patients saw me for a man again and immediately looked down on me once he said I was a woman. Why can’t they see I’m a doctor?” 

“Listen to me,” Jean-Pierre says. “I don’t care how you dress nor how you act, because I love you for the beautiful person that you are. And if some old man cannot see that, than he is truly missing out. You are the brightest, bravest and downright loveliest person I’ve ever known in my entire life, and I still cannot believe how lucky I am to be married to you.”

There are tears in their eyes and they try to hide their blush. “Thank you.”

JP smiles and kisses their cheek. 

As they continue their walking JP says, “So since you prefer LaFontaine Armitage, maybe I can pull some strings to get that changed in the official documents. What else?”

LaFontaine laughs, because of course JP would go the extra mile to change it officially, even on legal documents. 

“I’m not sure yet, you’re the first person I’m telling this,” LaF says. “But gender neutrality is important.”

They point with their finger towards him. “I don’t like it when you refer to me as your wife. I think I prefer partner.”

“Ah, that explains the look you gave me in your study,” Jean-Pierre remembers. “I can’t promise I won’t slip up, but please say when I do, that way I’ll learn faster.”

Jean-Pierre folds his hands on his back and looks at LaF. “So we have LaFontaine, doctor and partner. Can I add ‘my love’ to that list?”

LaFontaine turns red and tries to hide their smile. “Only you can call me that.” 

“I feel honored.” 

LaFontaine turns away with a small smile on their lips. The view of the soft green hills flowing down around them is broken only by a few dark gashes in the earth, reminders of the war that had taken place here less than half a lifetime ago. Some of dark riffs already have tufts of green sprouting from them, and LaF wonders how long it will be before those memories are slowly buried under soft green grass. Until stories are the only way to know that anything so horrific once occurred here. 

They can tell, from the somber turn that the silence between them has taken, that JP’s mind is also falling back to that time of billowing black smoke and uncertainty. However, soon enough the brisk pace of their walk leads them to a part of the lane hemmed in by tall, tangled hedges, and the moment of remembrance passes. 

“Out of pure curiosity,” Jean-Pierre says eventually, “What made you choose to go by your maiden’s name?”

“Probably because that’s how I’m called as a doctor. I guess at some point I got used to it.” 

JP nods. “That makes sense.” 

He sees how much more comfortable LaFontaine seems now and he guesses it is safe to make a joke again. 

“Something wrong with Armitage?” he teasingly asks.

“I cannot go by my surname as a first name, that’s silly.”

“LaFontaine used to be your surname,” Jean-Pierre says thoughtfully.

“But that’s was my father’s surname. It feels more personal. Like a first name.” LaFontaine gives JP a knowing smile. “Like a childhood memory I cherish dearly.”

Jean-Pierre returns the smile, and then recognizes the shimmering in their eyes. The watermill downhill. Not too far from here actually.

“Last one at the mill gets thrown into the water!” Jean-Pierre says with a grin, and immediately takes off at a sprint.

“You cheater!” LaFontaine shouts, and then takes off after him. 

They run down the muddy road and it’s soon clear that Jean-Pierre is a lot fitter than LaFontaine is. Which is no surprise at all, since he is in the army and they are a local doctor. He even turns around at one point while running and laughs triumphantly. 

“Seems like I’m going to be the one walking back in dry clothes!” 

Even though they are incredibly frustrated with him, because he can’t be charming and make a fool out of them at the same time, they still find themselves laughing. Because it feels like they have been thrown back in time, back to all those summers the two of them spent together as children. Spending the day in the moist grass and the muddy meadows and the small river that calmly flows through the countryside. When it was time for dinner they would try and hide from their parents, because their clothes were covered in dirt and mud. They could still hear their mother’s yelling voice even after all those years.

“Be careful what you wish for!” LaFontaine yells back, somewhat breathlessly. 

They can already see the half torn down watermill and before turning back around JP calls, “I’ll wait for you there, my love.”

He takes off at an even faster pace. When he is at the old watermill he touches the cold, wet brick stones out of habit, barely having broken a sweat. A few moments later LaFontaine stops beside him. They lean their hands on their knees and try to catch their breath.

“I. Hate. You,” they wheeze out.

“What?” Jean-Pierre playfully says. “I can’t hear you over the streaming water that is calling your name.”

LaFontaine looks up with wide eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Jean-Pierre shrugs out of his jacket, because even though it’s just a breezy March day the run has warmed him up.

“Of course I am,” he smiles and spreads his arms. “C’mere. You ran faster than most of my soldiers.” 

LaFontaine can feel the smile crawling back onto their face. They hug him, but when they do it takes Jean-Pierre less than a second to lift LaFontaine up and have them in his arms. 

“JEAN-PIERRE ARMITAGE PUT ME DOWN!” LaFontaine yells. 

“Reminds me of our wedding day,” JP laughs. 

They look fiercely into his eyes. “Now, JP! I mean it.”

“Yes, of course,” Jean-Pierre says and walks towards the river. “You want to be dropped here, right?”

“No no no! You asshole!” LaFontaine yells and for some reason they even let out a shriek, but in their defense, they are way too close to the water. They clutch their hands around JP’s neck. 

“I can’t believe I fell for that stupid hug!”

JP seems to be having the time of his life. “Okay, I’ll count to three and then you’re in the water. You ready?”

“NO!” 

“One.” 

A swing towards the water.

“JP I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“Two.”

Another swing. 

“IT’S LIKE 5 DEGREES OUTSIDE. I’LL GET A COLD!”

JP gives them a smile.

“Three!”

LaFontaine closes their eyes and waits for JP to drop them in the cold water. There is definitely a splash and they can feel their clothes getting wet, but they didn’t get swung out of JP’s arms. Confused LaF opens their eyes and sees that JP still has them in his arms. 

“I guess we’ll have a cold together,” he says. 

They both burst into laughter and LaFontaine lets their head lean to his shoulder, looking up to him. “Why did you go and get us both wet?”

“A good husband should never let his partner face their fears alone.” 

LaFontaine doesn’t know if it is the gender-neutral terms, or the way it reminds them of their childhood, or the way he somehow looks incredibly charming even though he is completely drenched, but before they can think about it too hard, they lean in and kiss him. It startles both of them, because usually JP is the one initiating the kisses. 

He coughs a bit awkwardly, but he can’t seem to keep his eyes off LaF. “Maybe we should head back again.”

LaFontaine nods. They jump out of JP’s arms and struggle up onto the grassy river bank. Their boots slosh as they stand up, and LaF sighs, remembering how long waterlogged boots take to dry. Jean-Pierre picks up his coat and drapes it over LaFontaine’s shoulders.

“You’re more drenched than I am,” LaF protests. 

“I don’t want my doctor to have a cold,” he smiles. 

They tangle their fingers together and start walking back towards their mansion. LaF wonders how upset Margot is going to be when they leave a trail of water and mud on the just-cleaned floor.  


Die Gemeinschaft - _Un-German Activities_

15 Mar. 1933 -- Kurt Hiller, known as an essayist and journalist, has been sent to a concentration camp. Hiller was not only a pacifist, a socialist and a Jew he was also a homosexual and the main organizer of the Institute of Sex Research. In this new Germany activities such as these are considered un-German and will not be tolerated. Male homosexuals and other un-German people should re-evaluate their lifestyles or they will find themselves facing the same consequences as Kurt Hiller. 

  
Carmilla paces nervously through her living room. 

“Laura, I need to speak with you,” she says. 

Carmilla turns around and shakes her head. “No, no that sounds too harsh. I need to phrase it differently.” 

She takes a deep breath and twists her fingers together. “Laura, can I speak to you? It’s a personal matter.”

“I…” Carmilla pauses for a moment and frowns. “Fuck, what was the next sentence again?”

She walks over to the table on which a carefully handwritten letter lays. Her eyes glide over the words and come to rest on one of the sentences. _I simply do not love you as friend._

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, I can’t.” She crumples the letter and throws it on the floor. 

Carmilla throws herself onto a chair and let’s out a sigh of defeat. If only she could say those words without having to prepare them weeks in advance.

Laura had asked Carmilla to go to the theatre tonight, and Carmilla had decided tonight was the night she would tell her. They had been friends for almost two years now, but while Laura seemed happy with this, Carmilla had been slowly falling in love. At first it wasn’t so bad, but recently she couldn’t be around Laura without feeling like her heart would jump out of her chest. 

It hurt to be with her and it hurt to be without her. But Carmilla was done tormenting herself over it, which means she has to put an end to the whole thing. She doesn’t want to just vanish out of Laura’s life though, she owes her the truth at the very least. Even if it means Laura will hate her forever. Even if it means she has to run, because Laura might tell people, might even turn Carmilla in... Okay, stop panicking and go back to your stupid letter, Karnstein.

“I simply do not love you as a friend,” Carmilla recites and then groans. “Oh for crying out - Hey Laura, how about you and I make out? No? You want to throw me in a burning pit of fire instead? Well, maybe that’s the better option, because that was fucking embarrassing.” 

She must be out of her mind, telling Laura how she truly feels, but she hadn’t been responsive to all the subtle hints Carmilla had dropped. So it’s best to make it as clear as day and put an end to Carmilla’s hopes and worries all together. That’s where the letter came in. Sending it was way too dangerous. Written words were evidence. She had to say the words out loud. Speaking of which, she should probably burn that letter right now before anyone could find it. By this point she knew the words by heart anyway. 

\--

The walk from her apartment to meet with Laura had been a total blur of half-muttered sentences, and now she is here with Laura and her head is still spinning. Normally being around Laura would calm her down, but not tonight. 

"Carm?" Laura's raised voice pulls Camilla away from her thoughts.

"Yes?"

Laura laughs and says, "I've only been saying your name for the last five minutes. Should we head in?" 

Laura is gesturing to the brightly lit entrance to the theatre, and Carmilla nods. She let's Laura lead the way into the theatre and deal with the tickets and tries to ignore the odd glances Laura keeps sending in her direction. She is distracted trying to remember what play it is that they are seeing, and ignoring her churning stomach.

Carmilla spends the entire play staring at the back wall of the theatre and reciting the words of the letter over and over inside her head. Laura reaches over several times, resting her hand on Carmilla’s knee and giving her puzzled smiles, but Carmilla is beyond reassuring Laura. Not when she is so wound up herself. 

She is taken by surprise when the play ends and the audience starts applauding enthusiastically, isn't sure whether to be glad that its over or terrified of what must happen next.

Laura stands up and offers Carmilla her arm and a smile. "Shall we?"

Carmilla musters up a pathetic smile of her own and tries to breathe evenly as they make their way out into the cool evening air.

“So the first act confused me a little bit, because I wasn’t sure who the blonde guy was supposed to be. But then when that woman with that cute little dress got on stage I was like, oh they must be lovers, right? Although I do think that the ending where they both said they died in the name of love and for the unity of their nation was a bit overdramatic. The costumes, however-“

Laura suddenly stops rambling when she realizes Carmilla still hasn’t responded.

She looks up to Carmilla and gently bumps into her shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening. I expected you would be ranting about how pretentious that play was by now.”

“Yes… well,” Carmilla coughs awkwardly. Nothing about that play could possibly be as pretentious as what was going to happen now. “Laura, can I speak to you?”

The words are out. She takes a deep breath. There’s no turning back now. 

“Yeah sure,” Laura says. “What’s it about?”

“At my place,” Carmilla somehow manages to get out. She’s starting to feel dizzy. “It’s a personal matter.” 

Carmilla ignores Laura's concerned glances as they walk the short distance to her apartment, partly because she can't bear to see how worried Laura is, and partly because she isn't sure she can handle looking at Laura at all when she knows how unlikely it is she will ever see Laura again after tonight.

Laura doesn't ask questions though, which Carmilla is glad of, just follows her trustingly into the apartment. 

"I can make tea," Carmilla offers weakly. Laura shakes her head and walks over to curl up on Carmilla's worn leather couch.

"Come tell me what’s going on," she says, and Carmilla's heart breaks a little at the gentleness in Laura's voice.

She walks over and sits gingerly on the couch opposite to Laura, but when she looks up and realizes that this way she has to stare into Laura’s eyes she reconsiders and gets up again and sits next to Laura. She stares at her lap and tries not to convey exactly how nervous she is, which is a lot.

She takes a wobbly breath to try and calm her racing pulse. This is it, she just has to bite the bullet and say it.

“Okay, I’m sorry I’ve been so vague with you,” Carmilla gets out nervously. She hasn’t made eye contact with Laura since she sat down next to her.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Laura says reassuring.

Carmilla wishes that she would stop being so kind. It is making it so much harder to get the words out.

“Yes well, ehm - We have been friends for over two years now and I really enjoy your company,” Carmilla starts. For someone who has been reciting that letter for weeks, she sure is forgetting its content rapidly. “I’ve not been completely honest with you and I’ve hidden an awful truth from you. Something I should have come forward with you much earlier.” 

She takes a deep breath. This is it. 

“I simply don’t love you as a friend,” Carmilla chokes on her own words. She swallows and her eyes are fixed on the ground. “I love you as much more than that. Like a lover.” 

Her brain gets completely fuzzy once she realizes she actually said the words. Now she has to speak the next few lines before Laura leaves, otherwise her life might be in danger.

“I understand that you’re disgusted with me, a-and I am too,” Carmilla says in a shaky voice. “I know it’s too much to ask of you, but I hope you will keep my sexuality a secret, as an eternal silent seal of our old friendship.” She pauses and swallows, before adding softly, “If I’m even allowed to call it that.”

Time seems to have stopped, although the loudly ticking clock over the mantlepiece indicates otherwise. Its ticking the only sound to be heard in the room. Carmilla, too scared to even look up, has to remind herself to breathe. Out of all the possible scenarios this one might be the worst. Why hasn’t Laura left already? Why was she still sitting next to her in silence, no yelling? Hadn’t she heard what she just said?

“Please say something so I know my secret is safe with you,” Carmilla whispers, and realises as she does that she has tears running down her face, that they have been there for a while now.

For the first time since Carmilla’s monologue she sees Laura move in the corner of her eye. 

“What if,” Laura hesitantly speaks, reaches out to gently touch Carmilla’s hand. “Those feelings are mutual?”

Carmilla startles and finally looks up to meet Laura’s eyes. “W-what?”

Laura awkwardly laughs. “I’m not sure if I can say it again after keeping it a secret for so long.”

“I…” Any words she might say seem to be stuck in Carmilla’s throat. She looks at Laura in disbelief, but she can feel a smile breaking through. All she wants is to kiss her, but she hesitates, still doesn’t know what Laura actually wants. “Am I… Am I allowed to kiss you?” 

Laura gives a small giggle through the tears collected in her own eyes and leans in slowly until her mouth is so close to Carmilla she can feel Laura’s breath.

“Way ahead of you,” she whispers, and then leans in to press their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be weekly on Wednesday at 5:00pm EST. For updates please check the [Carmilla 30s AU tag on tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au)


	4. Invitations and Intimidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is beef, yellow stars and some incriminating files.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** Emotional manipulation / abuse

Völkischer Observator - _Reichstag Fire Decree_

25 Mar. 1933 - Today, we remind all German citizens that the Reichstag Fire Decree has been in act for almost a month. We all remember how the Dutch communist Van der Lubbe burned down the Reichstag building in Berlin on the evening of 27 February, as a clear symbol of the communist revolution. But fear not, since the Decree was passed, our nation has taken matters into its own hands to ensure that an event like that will never again occur. It states in the Decree that the articles 114, 115, 117, 118, 123, 124 and 153 of the Constitution of the German Reich are suspended until further notice. It is therefore permissible to restrict the rights of personal freedom, freedom of expression (including the freedom of the press), the freedom to organize and assemble, and the privacy of postal, telegraphic and telephonic communications. Warrants for House searches, orders for confiscations as well as restrictions on property, are also permissible beyond the legal limits otherwise prescribed. These laws will let Germany protect itself from traitors to our nation. After all, you have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide. 

  


“A telegram for you, Miss Karnstein,” the delivery boy announces as he hands over the note.

“Thanks,” Carmilla says, and quickly closes the door without giving him a second glance.

Her hands shake slightly as she folds open the message. There is only one person who sends her telegrams.

We need to talk STOP 

No date nor time, yet Carmilla still knows what to expect. Mother would come by when she would least expect it. Such personal visits never ended well. 

“Who messaged you?” Laura’s voice interrupts her, as she slips her arms around Carmilla’s waist. 

Carmilla startles, because she didn’t realise Laura was already awake. She quickly crumples the paper and crams it in her pocket while she tries to reply nonchalantly, “Didn’t your father teach you that it’s impolite to creep up on people like that, cupcake?”

“My father didn’t teach me a lot of things,” Laura says while leaning in to press her lips against Carmilla’s neck. 

Carmilla coughs. “Eh - Laura, the curtains are open.” 

Laura leans back with a slight pout and drops her hands. She sits down at the table and says, “You were up early.”

Carmilla shrugs and sits down on the opposite side of the table. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Laura nods absently and stands to poke around the kitchen, putting together some breakfast. Carmilla can’t help but smile at the amount of sugar Laura adds to everything she eats.

“So I was thinking,” Carmilla says when Laura notices she is being not-so-subtly watched, “That maybe I could cook us some dinner tonight.” 

Laura raises an eyebrow. “What happened to the lazy girl who thinks cleaning her apartment every week is a waste of time.”

She has a fair point, but Carmilla had planned to surprise Laura this evening so she can’t exactly say so.

“Cleaning is a waste of time when the next day everything’s dirty again. If I don’t eat, I’ll die,” Carmilla says. “Big difference.” 

Laura laughs as she sits down at the table again. “One day I’ll get you to clean.”

“But in the meantime, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Carmilla asks carefully. “Although I do need to get some more beef at the butcher’s if you do.” 

Laura smiles and reaches over to squeeze Carmilla’s hand where it lays on the table. “Sounds fun.”

\--

“I mean can you even believe they used Kierkegaard’s theories like that? What a fucking joke,” Carmilla says. 

The woman standing before her in line turns around. “Could you please find some manners, young lady? Swearing will send you to hell!”

Carmilla is about ready to burst into laughter when Laura quickly nudges her.

“Eh yes, my sincerest apologies, ma’am,” Carmilla politely apologizes with the straightest face she can muster.

“I hope you mean that, for your own sake,” the woman says, shaking her head as she turns away.

“Youth these days,” she mutters, exactly loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.

Carmilla gives Laura a knowing look but has to look away again quickly, before they both explode with laughter.

When they walk out of the butchers shop and the woman is clearly out of earshot they both let themselves go, laughter bubbling uncontrollably from both of them.

“Swearing will… send...” Laura tries, breathless from laughter. She reaches out to grab Carmilla’s arms, both of them nearly doubled over from laughing.

Carmilla wipes away a tear. “Oh man, that’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all day.”

“Watch out, Carm! You’re one swear word closer to hell!”

They both break out in giggles again, clutching at one another in the middle of the street. If they are going to hell, it won’t be because of the swearing.

\--

“Wow, Carm. This looks delicious!” Laura says, eyes wide in awe or appreciation. Carmilla laughs at the way she is sitting with her hands in her lap so as to not touch anything.

“It’s truly nothing special,” she tells her. “It’s just Filet Mignon with French potatoes and asparagus, hardly a work of art.” Laura frowns. 

“Are you kidding me? It looks so fancy! As if we’re eating in a restaurant” Carmilla laughs at the earnest expression on Laura’s face. 

“Seriously though don’t get yourself too wound up. It’ll go cold if you just sit there looking at it,” Carmilla tells her, as she cuts into her own steak.

Laura takes her first bite and when she sees Carmilla’s nervous expression she teasingly says. “Could’ve used more sugar if you’d ask me.” 

“Laura Hollis, you are a culinary disaster,” Carmilla tells her haughtily, but she can’t quite stop the fond smile from creeping onto her face.

They chat for a while, both of them avoiding political topics for the sake of pleasant conversation. After Carmilla has spent several uninterrupted minutes talking about Kierkegaard’s argument on the subjectivity of truth, she switches the conversation to the article that Laura is currently working on.

“Mr. Spindler has given me full reign on it, I just have to pass the copy through him for a final edit, which is really exciting,” Laura gushes. Carmilla grins.

“That’s awesome, cupcake.”

“Yeah, it’s just gratifying that he is finally trusting me with this stuff, you know?” 

Carmilla nods and can’t stop herself from smiling fondly at the way that Laura’s eyes light up when she talks about her job.

“You deserve it,” Carmilla tells her. Laura smiles back, enthusiasm melting into a smile that matches Carmilla’s in fondness. 

Their plates have both been empty for a while, and Laura is about to jump up to clear the table, but Carmilla grabs her hand before she can get up. 

“Wait! We’re not done yet.”

“Okay…” Laura says as she sits down again. 

“I kind of had something planned for dessert as well.”

“Oh, I’ve really had enough though-”

“No no, it’s not really food, more like conversation,” Carmilla says. “You know, there is actually a reason that I made you a fancy dinner and lit a candle and all.” 

“Oh?” Laura says, surprised.

“You know I’m not so good with the feelings thing-”

Laura gives Carmilla a shameless grin. “What are you talking about? Reciting that letter to me that you’d practiced for weeks was very adorable.”

Carmilla blushes bright red, and mumbles, “Please stop mentioning that. It was the only way I could say it, and I am trying very hard to remove it from my brain.”

“Our first kiss too?”

“Yes cupcake, our first kiss too,” Carmilla rolls her eyes. “No of course not the kiss. It’s just - God! I was trying to build up to something Laura, and you kind of ruined it.” 

Laura plasters on an expression of remorse, almost entirely ruined by the smile peeking through. “I’m sorry, go on Carm.”

“Thank you,” Carmilla says with a dramatic sigh. “I was thinking, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was thinking that maybe if you’d like you could move in with me.”

She glances over at Laura who has gone totally silent.

“And I don’t mean tomorrow, or anything. But maybe in a couple of months. My apartment is very big, too big for me really. We could easily live together,” Carmilla quickly explains. “We can tell people we are roommates and we’ll draw less attention to ourselves by constantly visiting each other. Not to mention we can spend more time together.”

Carmilla lapses into silence, eyes on the napkin she is twisting between her fingers so as to avoid looking at Laura.

“Yes.” Laura’s answer breaks the silence, and relief floods Carmilla. She looks up to see that Laura is smiling, but it is nothing like her wild grin from earlier. This smile is soft, and there is something about Laura’s eyes that is making Carmilla’s heart melt. Figuratively, of course.

“Really?” Carmilla asks, and Laura rolls her eyes. 

“Yes, really. I would love to, plus my apartment is kind of a dump.”

“It’s definitely a dump,” Carmilla says solemnly. Laura reaches over and punches her lightly. 

“Hey! At least my apartment is _clean_ ,” Laura laughs. 

“Oh no, you got me there!” Carmilla holds her hands up in mock surrender. “But I guess you first need to find a way to sell it.”

“Yeah,” Laura says. “I’ll miss Perry, though.” 

Carmilla stretches to nudge Laura gently with her toes. “You don’t have to move, you know. I’m not trying to force you.”

Laura shakes her head vigorously and gives Carmilla a serious look. “No. I really do want to move in, okay?”

Carmilla gives her a small smile. “Okay.” 

“Plus, don’t lie to me Carm, you are going to miss Perry’s brownies just as much as me!” 

Carmilla laughs. “Yeah, I guess now we’ll need to go visit her actual bakery instead of getting stuff personally delivered to your door.”

The mention of the bakery sobers them both slightly, both of them remembering how slowly business has been for Perry in the recent months. 

Neither of them say anything, but Laura scoots her chair closer so she can tuck her feet onto Carmilla’s lap. She can hear Maman’s voice shouting about table manners, but it doesn’t matter here. Not with Laura. Somehow the contact is comforting, in the way that Laura’s presence always is. 

It will be nice, Carmilla thinks, to have that comfort all the time.

Vadum Francorum - _Jewish business boycott_

1 Apr. 1933 - This morning at ten o’clock the Nazi’s will start the boycott of Jewish business. As Wolff officially stated in Munich: “The leaders of the NSDAP have decided that the boycott on the Jewish shops, which are directed against the foreign propaganda of provocation and lies, will proceed to happen this saturday.” This involves businesses that are owned by people of the Jewish race. The S.A. and S.S. will have the duty to direct the public to Jewish owned shops. These watchmen will warn the people, but are not allowed to take any violent actions. It is also not allowed to close the shop or to destroy the windows or damage any other property. However it will be allowed to place placards or banners at the entrance of the shop. 

  


“Die Juden sind unser Unglück!” A man shouts in the street. “Kauf nicht bei Juden!”

Laura curls her finger into fists as she walks through the streets of Frankfurt. Of all the ridiculous things the NSDAP has come up with over the past few years this must be on top of that list. _Jews are our misfortune. Don’t buy from Jews_. Who the fuck did these people think they were? She tells herself to keep breathing, because she is afraid if she doesn’t she will hit one of those brownshirts in their stupid faces. 

When she walks around the corner she sees Perry’s bakery. The word “Jude” and a big yellow star are painted on the window. 

“This is insane,” Laura mutters under her breath. 

She can see another brownshirt standing by the entrance of Perry’s bakery. Oh no way in hell, this is not acceptable. As she is about to enter the shop the man addresses her.

“Miss, this shop is owned by a Jew,” the man tells her, as if he is doing her a favor. 

“No shit?” Laura gives him a wide-eyed stare of mock surprise and points at the paint. “I kinda figured with the big letters on the window spelling Jew.” 

“You don’t understand, Jewish people-”

“Sir, I really _really_ don’t want to continue this conversation,” Laura says coldly and pushes past him into Perry’s shop. 

She could hear the man yell “Traitor!” through the door. Laura rolls her eyes before she sees Perry. She hasn’t reacted at Laura’s entrance, she’s too busy cleaning.

“Hey Perry, are you okay?” Laura softly asks.

She jumps up and breathes out relieved when she sees it’s just Laura. “Yes, everything’s fine! I’ve decided to just clean. A lot. There’s a lot to clean.”

Perry forces a smile. “I wanted to bake some brownies, but that would be a waste, because I haven’t really had a customer all day. You know. And business is slow anyway. It’s been slow for a while now. So I started cleaning. Want a cookie?” 

Laura shakes her head, looking concernedly at Perry. 

“It’s okay to be scared, Perry,” Laura tries.

“I’m not scared. Why should I be scared? Everything’s fine,” Perry says. “You don’t need to worry, Laura.”

Laura smiles sadly because she realizes it is no use to try and talk about it when Perry is in a state like this. The truth is, a lot of German citizens have actually expressed their discomfort with this boycott by the NSDAP, but to say that might seem like downplaying it. Downplaying the fact that people see Perry as just another Jew. Guarding her shop and warning her customers away as if she is some kind of monster. 

Laura walks over to hop up onto the counter that Perry has just finished wiping down, and takes a cookie from the tray Perry is holding out. 

“Any news?” she asks, in an effort to keep conversation light. She has to try something. Although it is a bit hard, with the uniformed man still keeping guard just outside the door.

“Oh no, honey. It’s been business as usual for me, really,” Perry says while busily stacking clean trays, her face turned away from Laura.

“No hot date?” Laura teases, but the jibe falls somewhat flat, Perry too distracted to even provide her usual bright-red blush. 

Laura sighs, and takes a bite of the cookie. It’s good, really good. “This is awesome, Perr,” she says softly and offers Perry her most winning smile.

“Thank you, Laura,” she says, and there is no smile but at least Laura got her to stop cleaning for a moment.

“I should probably go in a minute,” Laura says, “My lunch break is almost over. But I didn’t just stop by for the cookie, I just wanted to check on- I mean, I have some news.”

As Laura talks, Perry turns to sweep the floor again, which has probably never been cleaner.

“Oh, how exciting, tell me all about it!” Perry enthuses as she looks up from her sweeping.

Laura’s stomach twists. Really, it isn’t good news for Perry at all. Why did she even bring it up?

“I’m moving out of my apartment. You know the friend that I’ve told you about, Carmilla? She offered for me to move in with her, since she is looking for a roommate.”

Laura sees Perry’s expression fall minutely, and it feels even worse than the sting of the lie that she is forced to tell to one of her closest friends. 

“That is really wonderful, Laura,” Perry says, the forced smile back in full display as she turns back to her broom. Laura sighs.

“Yeah, her place is really nice. But I am going to really miss having you as a neighbour Perr. We’ll have to make sure to get together and chat all the time, okay?”

Perry nods, and the grim smile seems a little more natural. 

“I really do have to get back now,” Laura tells her as she jumps off of the counter. “I am really sorry… Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she tries one more time, but Perry is already waving her off.

“Yes, of course! Don’t you worry yourself over me, Laura. I’ll be fine!” 

Perry shoos her out of the shop, and for the whole walk back to the office, all Laura sees are the hateful slurs written down everywhere. Proud officers standing guard next to closed doors while the shop owners sit quietly inside hoping it will pass. She wonders if any of them are ever going to be fine again. 

  


Die Gemeinschaft - _The Hitler Greeting_

DORTMUND 14 Jul. 1933 - On 10 July when 250.000 S.A.-men marched past Adolf Hitler he made a speech in which he talked how the NSDAP is now the only party of Germany and therefore has a big responsibility towards the country’s future posterity. Even though such a big march has so far been pretty extraordinary, the Hitler Greeting has become fairly common in our day to day life. The Hitler Greeting has become the German Greeting. It has become common practice while singing “Lied der Deutschen” and “Horst Wessellied” to use the Hitler Greeting whether you are a party member of the NSDAP or not. Now the Reich Minister of Home Affairs has submitted a few more circular.  
1\. All civil servants, officials and workers in public service have to greet one another in office hours and in offices by raising their right arm.  
2\. Civil servants and officials in uniforms have to greet in the military way. When they aren’t wearing headgear they have to greet by raising the right arm.  
3\. It is expected of civil servants that outside office hours they have to greet in the same manner.  
The Hitler Greeting has already proven to be very common in the German industry and it shows not only the connection between the German people and the Führer, but also mutual solidarity among members of society. 

  


The doorbell rings and Carmilla lets out an irritated sigh. Can’t a girl read a book in peace? She lazily walks to the door and half opens it. When she sees who it is, she is frozen for a moment in wide eyed shock.

“M-mother,” she stammers.

“Good afternoon, darling,” Lilita says. “I thought it was time we had a little talk.”

Carmilla had completely forgotten about the telegram. This always happened. 

“Don’t you invite your own mother in?” Lilita continues in a demanding tone. 

“O-of course, I’m sorry,” Carmilla says quickly as she hastily pulls the door open wide enough to let her mother enter. 

“It sure looks a lot cleaner compared to last time I visited you,” Lilita comments.

She coughs. “Laura, m-my roommate, is very tidy.”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard of the girl. You two seem such good,” Lilita takes the opportunity to let her gaze wander through the room, her wicked smile curling up on her face when she lets her eyes rest on her daughter again. “... _Friends_.” 

Carmilla swallows. Maman knows.

“Anyway,” Lilita says as she reaches for something in her purse. “I have some work for you.” 

She hands over a bunch of files to Carmilla. “I want a full report back from you in less than a month.”

Carmilla quickly flips through the topmost file when she spots the black spider on several pages. Anxiously she looks up at her mother.

“These are far more dangerous than my previous work.”

“Oh come now dear, that’s a lie. These are just tricky times, you have to be a little more careful,” Lilita says, her gaze boring into Carmilla, “We both know you can keep a secret after all.” 

Carmilla quickly lowers her eyes to the papers and softly mutters. “W-what if I don’t want to do this anymore.”

She can feel her mother’s posture turn cold and immediately regrets saying anything. Lilita snatches Carmilla’s chin and drags it up so she has to look in her mother’s eyes. “I think I didn’t quite catch that. What did you say, my dear?”

“I-it’s just that I’d like to start my own life now maybe,” Carmilla stutters. With Laura. 

Mother brings her face closer. “Your _own_ life?” 

This was the biggest mistake Carmilla could’ve made. She just should have done what Mother demanded from her and shut up about it.

“Are you saying that when you lived with me it wasn’t your _own_ life?”

“N-no, I -”

“Are you saying that when I adopted you, when I fed you, dressed you, gave you an incredible education, when I gave you all these opportunities you never would’ve gotten in a lifetime by yourself, it wasn’t your own _life_?” 

Carmilla squirms under her mother’s utterly cold gaze.

“Every change, every opportunity you’ve gotten in life is because of me. You are in this luxurious position because of the life I generously gave to you. The very least you could do is do your mother a little favor.”

Carmilla nods jerkily. Anything to make her mother go away. 

Lilita brushes some hair out of her face. She flinches at the touch. “Good girl.” 

Her mother lets go off her and strides over to open the front door again.

“I knew I could count on you,” Lilita says, before giving Carmilla one last sickly sweet smile. “You’re a treasure, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be weekly on Wednesday at 5:00pm EST. For updates please check the [Carmilla 30s AU](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) tag on tumblr.


	5. Breaking and Bruising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone is whipped, the ‘bed scene’ doesn’t mean what you think it means, and the ‘dance scene’ means exactly what you think it means. (Alternatively, Nazi-Germany find your chill, HOLY SHIT).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings** : very _**very gross**_ antisemitism and depiction of violence

Frankfurter Neue Zeitung - _What’s demanded of journalists_

BERLIN - 5 Oct. 1933 - Yesterday a new law was passed concerning newspaper editors. Under the new law, editors must be of German nationality, they can’t have lost the right to practice public office, and be of Aryan descent and also can’t be married to a non-Aryan. The editor also has to be over 21 years old and have at least one year of experience at a German newspaper or similar entities. For journalists, the new law demands that they treat subjects with truth. They are required to erase everything from the paper that confuses private interest with general interest, or which damages the power of the German empire and German people. Journalists have to be legally organized in the Reichsverband der Deutschen Presse. If someone isn’t on the occupation list, they can be punished by a jail sentence of a year, and the publisher employing such an editor can be punished with a jail sentence of three months. This law will pass on further notice of the Reich Minister of Propaganda. 

“I can’t believe your mother actually fired every Jew,” Laura spits the words at Carmilla.

“It’s basically the law now, Laura. It’s not like she had much of a choice.”

Laura huffs, and turns away to push a hand messily through her hair.

“Are you on _her_ side now?”

Carmilla groans. “This isn’t about sides! It was either that or let the paper go out of print. Do you want to lose your job?”

“No,” Laura says, and then turns to look Carmilla in the eyes. “But neither did the Jewish people.”

“Oh for fuck- Laura. I get it, okay? It’s ridiculous and our political leader is a madman. But ranting about it isn’t going to solve anything,” Carmilla tells her in frustration, reaching out to take Laura’s hand.

Laura pulls away, takes a breath and says, “I’m a journalist. Ranting about ridiculous things is my job!” 

Carmilla sighs and shakes her head. It’s condescending, and Laura hates it. “You do realize that every goddamn paper in Germany is under censorship? And those who don’t play along get arrested? It’s not like you can make a difference.”

Laura holds her hands up in defeat. “You know what? Forget it. I can’t be around you right now. I’m taking a walk.” 

“Fine,” Carmilla says, but Laura has already turned away to walk towards the door.

She doesn’t even bother to turn around and look at her when she replies.

“Fine.”

\--

Laura slams the front door of the flat behind her and feels the heat of the unusually hot October afternoon. She lets out a deep breath and starts walking to nowhere in particular. Why can’t Carmilla see how wrong it is? Why isn’t she angry about this? They can’t _do_ this. Censoring everyone, trying to strip Jews of their basic human rights. Why does nobody see how absurd this is? Why is nobody doing anything? 

She wanders through the city for a while, anger clouding her thoughts so that she barely notices where she is walking. She only snaps out of it when a big crowd blocking the street forces her to stop before she runs into someone. There seems to be something happening, a march or protest. She can’t really bring herself to care. 

“What’s going on?” she hears one stranger in front of her say to another person.

“A Jew is about to get rightly punished,” the younger man responds. 

The other nods. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s a great story actually,” the younger man says, his voice loud and enthusiastic. “So this old Jew gave his son permission to date the daughter of a national-socialist, which is mental. So I assume her father got to the Jew and told him to back off. When he didn’t, he asked him for money. I heard he made 700 bucks off the dude, but then the Jew refused to pay more. The father went to the S.A. and told them all about it and now they’ve taken the son as a prisoner. He’s doing his walk of shame now through the city. Or at least, that’s what I heard.”

The man points in the distance. “Oh look! There he is!” 

Laura eyes follow his finger and she sees a few figures walking in their direction. The man in front struggling to walk, occasionally getting whipped. Laura bites her lip, because she can’t leave now, that would draw too much attention. As the group walks slowly closer to where she stands, she see’s the man in front is young, probably the son the stranger was talking about. He must be just a few years younger than her. His chest is bare as he walks, almost stumbling over his own feet as he does, while the brownshirts walking behind him shout that he should walk faster. Around his neck hangs a board. _I’m a Jewish pig_ , it reads. The people around Laura cheer loudly. She wants to stop it. Wrestle herself through the crowd and help the young man. But she cannot seem to move her legs. What if it was Perry up there? What if it was her? What if… What if it was Carm? 

It’s just love. One person loving another. Why is it so wrong to love someone? Why are people getting punished for caring about someone else with all their heart? It’s just _love_. 

“Go back to Palestine where you belong!” 

_Help him! Help the poor man! You useless hypocrite, help him!_ Nothing moves but her eyes as she slowly watches the men walk by. In her mind she has run to the young man, untied his arms and screamed at the crowd, demanded to know what the hell is wrong with them that they can just stand by and cheer. Made them realize how absurd this is. But she can’t really do it, she would get arrested. They would search her home. They would find Carmilla. They would find out- The crowd cheers at the sound of a whip cracking again in the distance. The small group has moved on, and all Laura can do is focus on keeping the tears from her eyes. 

“Serves ‘em right.” 

The crowd dissolves, the chanting now just a low murmur of hate, and Laura makes sure to walk as fast and far away from this as possible. She finds herself in a quiet spot near the Maim. She sees a small rock on the ground and picks it up. It actually fits well in her hand. She squeezes it between her fingers as if she hopes to push all her anger inside the rock. She makes a broad swing and throws the stone into the river as hard as she can. She waits for the sound of the stone hitting the surface and watches as the lines on the water grow and then shrink again. There are tears running down her face.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath. 

Laura sits down on a bench and puts her hands over her face. She sobs uncontrollably as she tries to forget what she just saw. She can’t, though. The images are burned in her mind forever. What hurts the most is that she didn’t even _try_. She just stood there like a fucking statue. Maybe Carmilla is right, maybe wanting to help isn’t enough. Maybe they really don’t have a choice after all. 

\--

Silently, Carmilla lets her fingers glide over the many book covers on the shelves that line their living room. She needs something that can steer her mind away from everything that happened today. Her hand rests on one of the many works she has of Friedrich Nietzsche. The fact that his sister had been rewriting his work to compel to all those Nazis makes her sick to her stomach. Pure blasphemy if you ask her. She shakes her head, maybe not Nietzsche tonight, and turns her eyes to the many unread titles grouped at one end of the shelf. 

Eventually she settles for André Breton’s _Nadja_ , which she has wanted to read for a while now. She is sure the author is an absolute asshole, but his surrealism might be interesting. Not that she has her hopes up or anything, it is just something to get through the night. It’s probably going to be a long one. 

She settles down to read, but her mind keeps wandering from the words on the page. Carmilla realizes that this must count as their first fight. Yes, they have had petty arguments before, but that was mostly Laura complaining about the hair in the bathtub drain. Neither of them has ever walked out the door before. Maybe she should go out and check on her. She closes the book and is about to grab her coat, when she realizes that perhaps this isn’t the time to go after Laura. It would just make her angry. Laura has to figure out on her own that sometimes you can’t change or save the world, even if you are absolutely right about how wrong it is.

It takes a good hour or two before Carmilla hears someone walking up the stairs and the sound of a key being turned in the lock. The door is pushed hesitantly open and she isn’t quite sure how to react. Should she look up? Should she greet her? Maybe it’ll be best if she lets Laura speak first, so Carmilla has a chance to see what kind of state she is in. If she is still angry with her. 

The door closes and she can hear Laura hanging up her coat and taking off her shoes. There is undeniable tension in the room, but neither of them speaks. She hears Laura slowly walking towards the couch. Their eyes meet for a second before Laura sits down next to her.

"You were right," Laura says in a small voice, and flops forward to lay her head on Carmilla's shoulder, their fingers intertwining unconsciously. 

"I know," Carmilla says without looking up from her book. 

Laura immediately jerks up, but before she can say something Carmilla meets her eyes. "I wish I wasn’t though." 

She settles back on Carmilla’s shoulder. "Nice save."

"I've had practice," Carmilla says while trying to turn the page with her free hand. She wishes she could feel as nonchalant as she acts.

She lets Laura read along with her, even though it distracts her. Laura can’t even read French, but she sometimes points at words she thinks look funny, and Carmilla can’t help but smile and translate the words every time. The photos fascinate her too, because she isn’t used to pictures in books. Neither is Carmilla actually, but this book is a breeze compared to her normal reading material. Suddenly she is grateful she didn’t pick up Nietzsche today.

At some point Laura stops pointing at words and Carmilla can feel her breathing even out. She never would’ve thought someone would feel comfortable enough around her to fall asleep on her shoulder like that. To trust her the way Laura does. She keeps reading, trying to turn the pages as quietly as possible. Move as little as possible. She even curses in her head that she wound up the clock yesterday, because its ticking is so loud. 

When the text becomes a blur and she can feel her eyelids drooping she finally puts the book down. Part of her wants to fall asleep like this, but she knows they will regret it when they have sore backs in the morning. She glances at the clock and sees it’s far past midnight. She should get Laura into bed. 

“Laura,” she whispers softly. “Laura, wake up.” 

Laura lets out a small grunt and turns to bury her face in Carmilla’s shoulder.

She smiles. “I know this is nice, but the bed is more comfortable than my shoulder.”

“You don’t know that,” Laura grumbles sleepily. 

Carmilla lets out a soft laugh and pinches her hand. “C’mon. You’ll thank me once you lay on your pillow.” 

\--

Carmilla is starting to feel sleepy by the time she has helped Laura into bed. She is more than happy to drift off, but beside her, Laura’s breathing shows no sign of evening out despite how sleepy she had been on the couch. Carmilla squeezes her eyes shut and tries to ignore it, but Laura’s mood always seems to seep into her own and it proves to be impossible. 

“You actually never told me about your mother before,” Laura whispers in the night. 

Carmilla wonders for a moment if she should pretend to be asleep. But the lingering thought of their earlier fight makes the little lie seem more like a betrayal. The fight is probably what is keeping Laura awake as well.

“Hm?”

Laura turns around on her side and faces Carmilla. “Your mother? I mean, she is my highest up boss and all, and I’m her daughter’s secret girlfriend, but I’ve never actually met her.”

“You don’t want to,” Carmilla replies bluntly.

Laura fumbles around to find Carmilla’s hand in the dark and squeezes it.

“Is it bad?” she asks softly.

For a moment, it is like Carmilla is drowning in the ocean that is her love for Laura. Even the simplest gestures of care make her heart feel like it’s jumping out of her chest.

“No,” Carmilla shakes her head. “Not really. I think.” 

She lets out an awkward laugh, because that must’ve been one of the vaguest replies she ever said out loud. “It’s a bit… complicated.”

Carmilla turns her head and now that her eyes are a bit accustomed to the dark she can see Laura’s eagerly awaiting expression. 

“Did I ever tell you I grew up an orphan?” She asks, not believing she is actually going to tell Laura this.

“You never told me, but I sort of picked up on it,” Laura says.

“Right,” Carmilla says and she rolls the rest of the way onto her side as well. This might be a long night after all. “I never knew my birth parents. My first memory is of the orphanage. When I was five years old Maman took me in.” 

She pauses and a smile appears on her face when she thinks back to that time. “I don’t remember much of being an orphan, but I do know that being with Maman was the exact opposite. She took me to zoos and we watched all the exotic animals. She proudly showed me off at fancy parties as her own daughter to all the members of high society. It was pretty much all a lonely orphan girl could ask for.”

Her smile disappears and the lump in her throat thickens because she doesn’t know how to tell the rest of this story. 

“When-” She breaks off and pauses, then sighs. “When I grew older _Vacum Francorum_ became one of the biggest national newspapers. Maman took that opportunity to expand her business. Books. Radio. Movies. You name it. But the bigger her business grew, the more distant she became.”

Carmilla almost wishes Laura would fall asleep, but she is listening as earnestly as she always does, so Carmilla continues. 

“Something shifted, but I doubt it was Mother who changed. Maman always had a strong persona. If she was angry with me she had this… Intensity, that made me feel even smaller than I already was.” 

“It was rare when I was younger, but once I was a teenager it seemed like nothing I did was right,” Carmilla takes a deep breath. “It’s like she knew I felt this growing hatred towards her, because suddenly she kept saying how many opportunities she had given me by taking me in. She blamed me for things I didn’t do and even made me apologize for it.”

“Then why do you still care for her?” Laura asks softly.

“She saved me once,” Carmilla whispers and then quickly explains. “From the orphanage, I mean.”

Laura nods. 

“I guess that makes me grateful,” Carmilla says. “She looks out for me. Even though I’m scared of her.”

She looks at Laura. “Is that what mothers do?”

“I don’t know,” Laura says. “My mother died when I was born.”

Carmilla squeezes Laura’s hand and gives her a sad smile. For a moment it seems like Carmilla can go back to sleep, but Laura opens her mouth again. 

“What about-”

“Okay cupcake, I think that’s enough dramatic backstory questions for tonight,” Carmilla tells her. 

She reaches out to find Laura’s tummy and tickles her. Laura lets out a giggle and then puts on a warning tone of voice. “Carm, don’t you dare.”

“What?” Carmilla widens her eyes in mock innocence as she rolls over to Laura’s side of the bed. “Are you ticklish?”

“Oh, screw you, you know I am.”

Carmilla laughs and crawls on top of Laura’s stomach, tickling her relentlessly. 

“STOP IT!” Laura yells in between laughing. 

Laura grabs Carmilla’s pillow and smashes it against her, but it has little effect. 

“ _Carm!_ I swear to God.”

Carmilla stops for a second and brings her face closer. “Swearing will send you to hell, Laura Hollis!” 

Laura lets out a loud belly-laugh and immediately puts a hand over her mouth. “It’s like 3 am. We should be quiet.”

Carmilla smirks. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.” 

Laura lets out a gasp, but before she can protest Carmilla’s lips are on hers. Laura wraps her arms around Carmilla and tugs her down so that they are pressed together, feet tangled under the sheets. Carmilla doesn’t deepen the kiss, just lets them both enjoy the warmth of each others lips.

When they break apart, Carmilla opens her eyes and rests her forehead against Laura’s. Those beautiful brown eyes stare back at her. She softly kisses her again and turns to bury her nose in the soft hair at the nape of Laura’s neck and whisper three small words. 

“Ich liebe dich.”  


Völkischer Observator - _Three New Laws_

NUREMBERG, 16 Sep.1935 - Yesterday on Reichstag three new laws got passed. Our Führer spoke about how Jews have begun to act provocatively, even so far as creating a system for it. Therefore we have to lawfully put them in their rightful place. First of all, the flag of the Nazi party is now the official German flag. The Swastika is a symbol of our fight for freedom against the destructive elements of our society: the Jews. No Jew is allowed to display the flag or the national colors, however they are allowed to display the Jewish flag. Secondly, Germany will be separated into two classes: those with kindred blood and those with Jewish blood. Someone with three or four Jewish grandparents is classified as a Jew. Those with one or two Jewish grandparents are classified as a Mischling. Those with no Jewish grandparents are considered German. Only people with German blood are racially acceptable. They will have full Reichsbürgerschaft. All other have Statsangehörigkeit. Lastly, all marriages between Jews and German citizens are from here on out forbidden, this includes marriages that took place abroad. Jews are also not permitted to employ female citizens under the age of 45, of German or kindred blood, as domestic workers.

  
Carmilla loudly pushes through the apartment door and kicks the door shut with a foot, both hands occupied carrying a large gramophone. At the sound of the slammed door, Laura walks out of the kitchen.  


“Carm?” 

“Hey cupcake!” Carmilla says with a nod to her direction as she struggles over to the table to put the gramophone down. She lets out a sigh of relief. “Jesus, that thing is heavy.” 

Laura walks towards her with a confused look. “What is going on here?”

“New music equipment!” Carmilla says enthusiastically as she leans over to peck her on the lips. “My old one isn’t what it used to be anymore, and the latest models are better.” 

“Did I know about this?”

“No,” Carmilla says as she carefully takes Laura’s hand and laces their fingers together. “But I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

“Suprise? Where did you even get it? Isn’t it expensive?”

“Well, yeah,” Carmilla shrugs and says with a smile, “But I have my methods.”

“Don’t say you stole it,” Laura says, suddenly worried.

Carmilla rolls her eyes. “I may find ethics boring, but I’m not going to steal a gramophone.” 

“Just askin’,” Laura says, but there is definitely a smile on her face.

Carmilla lifts their joined hands and twirls Laura under her arm. 

Laura lets out a giggle and blushes, but quickly is aware of their surroundings. “Carm, the curtains are open.”

“Stupid curtains,” she groans as she lets go off Laura’s hand again. “Personally, I think our neighbours know by now that we are lesbians and actually don’t give a crap.”

“If only.”

“So,” Carmilla says to try and lighten the mood again. “What do you say, you finish that dinner while I install the gramophone and afterwards we can have a nice date with you, me, the gramophone and the curtains?” 

Laura laughs. “I’m not sure if there’s room for the four of us.” 

Carmilla shrugs. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay sure,” Laura says and before Carmilla can cheer too loudly she quickly raises her finger. “ _But_ only if you clean the dishes after dinner.”

“Ugh, fine” Carmilla groans. 

Laura walks back to the kitchen. “And we get rid of the old one!” 

“What, why?” Carmilla protests. “That thing is going to be vintage one day.”

“Yeah, one day,” Laura says as she peeks her head out of the kitchen. “Just not _today_ and not in _our_ house.” 

“I don’t get a say in this?” 

Laura brings her finger to her chin and pretends to think for a second. 

“Nope!” she says and teasingly blows Carmilla a kiss. 

\--

Carmilla quickly cleans the dishes and then barely dries them off before dumping them back in the cupboards. The sun is going down so it is socially acceptable to close the curtains, even though it’s still a bit early. Carmilla pushes the couch towards the wall to create more space. She quickly checks if she has the right record before walking towards Laura, who is sitting at the table reading the evening paper with her legs tucked under her. 

“Three out of four are ready,” Carmilla says softly while holding out her hand. 

Laura smiles and unfolds herself, taking Carmilla’s hand and letting her lead them both to the middle of the living room. 

Carmilla quickly jogs back to the gramophone and then before she puts the needle on the record she pauses to say. “Okay, so I found this record by coincidence in the music store today. It’s called _I Wished on the Moon_ and it’s performed by Billie Holiday, not too long ago actually. Normally her work is a bit too swing for me, but on my most happy days I can definitely dig it.” 

Carmilla smiles at Laura as the record starts to play. “However _this_ one,” she says as she walks closer to her. “With Teddy Wilson on the piano, is just perfect.” 

She slips her hand onto Laura’s waist and lets the fingers of their free hands intertwine. 

“Closer,” Carmilla says as she pulls Laura to hers. “Chest to chest.”

Laura blushes and gives in to Carmilla’s lead. Carmilla moves them together, slowly revolving in a messy sort of coordination. They are pressed close enough together that Laura’s entire vision seems to be taken up by Carmilla’s eyes. The soft sound of the song Carmilla chose fills the room, and she is looking at Laura with a kind of intensity that sends shivers down Laura’s spine. 

“Your most happy days, huh?” Laura blurts out, to distract herself from the look in Carmilla’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Carmilla says, “I’ve had a lot of those since I met you.” 

Laura blushes an even brighter shade of red and then recovers herself enough to return the favor. “You know, the moment I looked up when you sat down to me in that bar, I knew I was a goner.”

_I wished on the moon, for something I never knew._

Carmilla quickly spins Laura so she won’t see the blush spreading across her cheeks. When she is back in her arms she can’t even hear the music playing in the background anymore. She can only see Laura, and feel that she’s smiling the way she only ever does when she is with her. Even in her happiest dreams she would never have thought she could be as lucky as she feels right now.

“I was gone before you even laid eyes upon me.”

_A sweeter rose, a softer sky,  
On April days that would not dance away._

Carmilla leans forward so their foreheads are touching, breath mingling as they sway together. She closes her eyes, lets the memory of learning the careful steps of this dance wash over her.

 _I looked for every loveliness, it all came true,  
I wished on the moon for you._

Carmilla slows her movements as the song winds towards its end, keeping Laura pressed close. She opens her eyes as they come to a stop, and watches as Laura blinks twice, low lazy sweeps of her eyelashes. Carmilla never noticed before how nice Laura’s eyelashes are. She leans in even closer, feels Laura’s breath catch slightly where their chests are pressed together.

They are seconds from kissing when the moment is rudely interrupted by the doorbell. Carmilla closes her eyes in annoyance and lets out a soft groan. “Come _on._ ” 

Laura smiles and quickly pecks her lips. “I’ll get it.” 

Carmilla walks reluctantly over to the gramophone and stops the music while Laura opens the door. The happy mood that is filling the apartment seems to disappear in seconds when Laura sees that it’s Perry, her eyes red from crying.

“I-I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Perry says with a shaky voice and sniffles.” I… I had to close my bakery.” 

Laura covers her mouth with her hand in shock. “What? No!” 

Perry jerkily nods as tears run down her face. “I didn’t know where else to go, I’m so sorry.”

“No no,” Laura says as she grabs Perry by her wrist and pulls her into the apartment. “You’re always welcome here Perr.” 

Laura immediately pulls a chair out. “Come sit. You want a glass of water?”

“Yes, please.”

Laura looks to Carmilla, “Carm, can you get it?”

Carmilla immediately heads into the kitchen as Laura pulls out another chair and sits down next to Perry. She takes her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“What happened?” she asks, even though they all have a pretty good idea what caused it.

“Well,” Perry says and her voice cracks on the word. “W-With all the Nazi policies of buying at German shops only, I lost a lot of my customers. I had to rely on friends and the Jewish community.”

Carmilla returns and sets down the glass in front of Perry before sitting down on the opposite side of the table. Perry looks up and gives her a quick smile. “Thanks, sweetie.”

She turns back to Laura. “A lot of Jewish people try to support each other in buying from each other’s shops, but even so it’s hard to get by. A lot of us struggle, so my business eventually ran out when they couldn’t buy enough to keep me running.”

She lets out another dry sob. “It was either the bakery or my apartment.”

Laura gives her hand a comforting squeeze. 

“I wish we could’ve done something.” 

Perry shakes her head. “If my business has to rely on friends and family I’m not a decent business.”

“Don’t say that. Frankfurt is nothing without your sweets.”

“Oh well. Really it’s just n-”

“Don’t you dare say normal,” Laura cuts in.

“I’m sorry Laura, but that’s how it is,” Perry shrugs. “This is our normal.”

Laura shoots Carmilla a helpless glance over the table, eyes pleading her to find something to help Perry, to do _something._

“Perry,” Carmilla says carefully, with her eyes still on Laura.

Perry looks up at her. “Hm?”

Carmilla struggles for a moment to word her next sentence properly. “With the recent law-change and all… Have you ever considered fleeing the country?” 

“What?”

“Because if you want to, I can help you out. With my mother’s connections I have friends all over Europe, people who can help you get out of the country. Let you stay with them until it’s safe again,” Carmilla explains.

“I could easily arrange your transport to Rotterdam. I’m not sure if the Netherlands is the safest choice, but since Rotterdam is a big harbor I’m sure I can find a way to get you on a boat to England. I have an acquaintance there who willingly would take you in. No problem.” 

Perry’s eyes grow big. “I-I c-can’t just-”

“It’s an offer,” Carmilla says. “It’s no problem for me to arrange it. Please, just think about it.”

Perry turns silent, but almost immediately shakes her head. “I can’t just leave my home. It’s too much. All my friends are here, and my family. I can’t. I wouldn’t know the language, or the habits, or their food. And I would be freeloading off someone else-”

“It’s not freeloading when they volunteer to take you in,” Carmilla says. “There are lots of people who disagree with Hitler’s policy, we just don’t hear about them because our country is under censorship.”

“Exactly!” Laura joins in. 

“That’s very considerate of you, Carmilla,” Perry says. “But I don’t think I can do that. I think I prefer to just walk around in Frankfurt as Lola Perry the unemployed Jew.”

“Lola?” Carmilla asks distractedly.

“Yes, Lola is my given name, only Laura calls me by my last name.” 

Laura turns red. “I’m sorry, I always thought Perry was your first name. If I say Lola it just feels weird.”

“It’s okay,” Perry smiles. “I’m actually used to it now.”

“Well, okay but-,” Laura mutters reluctantly, and Perry gives her hand a comforting squeeze, and even works up a small smile.

Laura returns Perry’s smile, but it is only a few seconds before she is frowning again. 

“There has to be something that we can do for you, Perry. Without the bakery, you just…” Laura trails off with a helpless gesture.

Perry tries another brave smile, this one coming off as more of a grimace. “I’m sure something will turn up. I don’t want to bother you two, really.”

Laura really doesn’t want to freak out Perry, but she has heard and seen Nazi’s taking unemplyed homeless people to concentration camps. She wanted to cover it in a news article, but Mr. Spindler had forbad her to even write the piece, let alone publish it. With all the recent laws, there were incredibly few jobs left for Jews. Being unemployed and not having the money to even rent your own flat is too dangerous. Perry needs a job as soon as possible, if she doesn’t want to end up on the streets. There has got to be something they can do for her.

“No wait, I used to clean for the family Meijer a few years ago. Maybe I can ask them if they need a new cleaning lady.”

Carmilla raises an eyebrow. “You mean the job you ditched, because you got a job offer at Vadum?” 

Laura turns her head to Carmilla. “I wrote them a ten-page letter explaining everything and they replied wishing me the best of luck at my new job.”

Carmilla tries to withhold her laughter. Of course she did. 

“Anyway,” Laura says looking to Perry again. “I can help you out. I’ll write them a letter and we’ll find you a new job in no time, you’ll see.”

Carmilla can’t help but smile sadly at the determination in Laura’s eyes, contrasted so awfully by the total resignation in Perry’s.

“Once this one decides on something, it’s good as done,” Carmilla tells Perry with a cheeky grin. It doesn’t elicit the genuine smile that she was hoping for, but there is something almost fiercely proud in Perry’s expression when she replies.

“Oh, I know.”

\--

It is nearly an hour before Perry leaves the apartment. Between the three of them they worked on a recommendation letter to send to the Meijers. Laura promises Perry that it will guarantee her a job, and that if they didn’t reply within a week Laura would personally visit them to make sure Perry could get the job. By the time Perry left, she was practically her self again, promising to shower Laura in baked goods now that she didn’t have the bakery to divert her energy into. 

It isn’t until the door is closed behind her that Laura realises she is shaking slightly. She sags into Carmilla’s arms, lets the comforting strength of her arms take over for a moment. Their dance of just a few hours ago feels ages ago, like nothing more than a sad memory of happier times.

“We could flee too, you know?” Carmilla says into the silence.

“What’s the point?” Laura’s words are muffled in Carmilla’s blouse.

“I don’t know,” Carmilla replies. “Faux security in distance?”

“We’re only in danger if they find out.”

“I know,” Carmilla says softly. “But what if they do?”

“They won’t.” Laura says this with far more conviction than she really feels. She looks up to meet Carmilla’s eyes. “They can’t, okay?”

Carmilla doesn’t say anything, just grips her tightly. Maybe if they can just hang onto each other tight enough, it will all be okay.


	6. Lies and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an oblivious father has dinner at the Hollstein residence and their relationship turns out to not be the only secret Carmilla has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** Misgendering, emotional manipulation / abuse.
> 
> See the end of the chapter for An Important Announcement.

La Société - _Japan and China prepare for war_

BEIPING, 16 Jul. 1937 - Any moment now a big war might start in North-China. Every day, every hour Japanese warships are arriving in China. According to Chinese sources, since the beginning of the crisis 100.000 soldiers have left Japan. The Japanese air force is preparing for war and the Japanese Ministry of War has published a threatening statement: “We will purify North-China.” The statement continues, stating that Japan doesn’t want a real war with China, it’s just a very special feudal war. In such wars the opponents attempt to reach their purposes through negotiations, which will continue during war. These negotiations consider not only the conditions of peace, but also the course of battle and the military operations, and is attempting to keep the amount of troops to a minimum.

“Goodmorning, my love,” JP says as he walks into the breakfast room, ducking down to swiftly peck LaF on the cheek.

“Morning to you too,” LaF says with a small smile, as they look up from the letter they were reading. 

As he sits down at the breakfast table, their expression changes into one of concern.

Jean-Pierre notices, and raises his eyebrows at them. “What is it?” 

“You had a bad dream last night, didn’t you?”

He flashes LaF a smile that is gone far too quickly. “Just some old memories, nothing to worry about.”

“JP, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but-”

“I would prefer to spare you the awful details of the things I’ve seen in combat,” he says curtly. 

It shuts them both up. JP awkwardly clears his throat as he reaches for the baguettes and cheese. He starts buttering his baguette, and then spots the pile of letters on the table and gestures to it with his butter knife.

“Mail came today?” he says, into the awkward silence.

LaFontaine nods. “I already stacked yours together.” 

“Excellent,” JP says and then smiles and says lightly, “Looking forward to doing all those taxes again.” 

LaF smiles briefly at him. “At least you don’t have a letter from your parents who keep referring to you as their _little girl_.” 

JP winces at the pained expression on their face and reaches over to take their hand. “They mean well.” 

“I know,” LaFontaine says with a lump in their throat, and mumbles. “I just wish they would be proud that their child is a doctor.” 

“They are proud of you, my love.” JP leans over the table and kisses LaF’s forehead. 

“You think?” LaF asks unbelieving. 

“Hmhm,” JP nods as he sits down again. “They’re just constrained by their old fashioned views.”

“They should snap out of it then.”

JP squeezes their hand. “You’re doing just fine without them. They’ll catch on eventually.” 

\--

The overcast sky of the morning sours to cold drizzle as the day goes on, providing a miserable contrast to the warmth of the house where LaF and JP are tucked into their small library, writing letters and reading the newspaper respectively. 

“Hah! A _very special feudal war_. That’s rich. As if Japan wants to negotiate, they have a pact with Germany for God’s sake.” 

JP looks up from his paper when LaF doesn’t respond. He smiles when he sees that they’re thoroughly absorbed in writing what looks to be a quite long letter. 

“To whom are you writing?” He asks curiously, lowering the newspaper to his lap.

It takes a moment before LaF looks up and responds. “Remember that Silas Conference in Austria several years ago?”

“Yes I do,” Jean-Pierre says. “You made a friend there, didn’t you?”

“I did, I’m writing to her right now.”

“What was her name again? I forgot.”

“Carmilla Karnstein,” LaF says as they turn back to their paper. 

“Wait, is that the daughter of Ms. Morgan?”

LaF absently nods.

JP frowns slightly at their answer, setting aside the paper. “You mean the girl with the scandal?”

LaF immediately looks up, their face a mixture of shock and horror. “How do you know about that?”

JP, surprised by their sudden intensity, says. “Well, I mean, I barely know anything, but I’m in a position I sometimes hear about these things.”

“You shouldn’t- This isn’t-,” LaF tries. “It’s none of your business, JP.”

He raises his eyebrow. “I know. That’s why I didn’t look into it, not that I could have even if I wanted to. Clearly her mother cleaned up the mess for her.”

“ _Clearly_ you don’t know the entire story.”

He reaches over to take their hand in his. “Hey now, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for you, I don’t want you to befriend the wrong people,” he says. “The fact that it had to be covered up speaks volume to me.”

LaF frowns and pulls their hand away from his. “You don’t know the full story,” they repeat stubbornly.

“But don’t you agree it’s better if the truth came out?” JP asks them.

LaFontaine scoffs. “In my experience, the masses are too dumb to understand the whole story.”

JP sighs. “I don’t want you to be angry with me. I’m sorry, I’m just worried you’re friends with people who could harm you.”

“I know you are worried,” LaF says firmly. “But I can judge people myself.”

Die Gemeinschaft - _Annual Nuremberg Rally_

NUREMBERG, 13 Sep. 1937 - The annual congress of the NSDAP almost comes to an end. As in past years, Nuremberg has become the centre of attention in the past week. Hitler had a solemn entrance, and the air was filled with 400 airplanes under general Goering’s command. In the city over a million people gathered. All greeted the Führer, and celebrations were completed with 600.000 German troops parading before Hitler. As per tradition a manifest was presented on the opening. This year Hitler stated the following facts: 

1\. The Treaty of Versailles is dead. 

2\. Germany is free.

3\. The guarantor of freedom is our own Wehrmacht.

4\. The racial politics has gifted Germany with a strong human race. Finally people can say “It’s good to be German” again. 

Carmilla is deeply absorbed in reading a letter when Laura walks in the living room, dressed for work, right down to her neat and tidy stockings.

“Good morning!” She tells Carmilla brightly, walking over to peck her on the lips.

“Morning,” Carmilla replies with a smile.

Laura wraps her arms around Carmilla’s shoulders and peeks curiously at the letter. “What’s this? I can’t even read this, is it French?” 

“Yes it is, you snoopy reporter,” Carmilla says and twists out of her embrace with a grin.

“Hmm, my journalistic instinct senses that you have some secrets you need to spill, Miss Karnstein.” Laura teases.

“I’ve told you before,” Carmilla says with a nostalgic smile. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Even after all those years, you’re still quite the mystery,” Laura says and gives Carmilla a kiss on the cheek before sitting down across from her. 

“So, who is the letter from?” Laura says as she picks some bread and starts buttering it. 

Carmilla puts the letter down and takes a bite out of her own half-eaten slice of bread and jam. “A friend of mine. A doctor. Sometimes we exchange letters.”

“That’s vague,” Laura says as she picks up her slice of bread and then teasingly adds before taking a bite. “Secret lover?” 

Carmilla lets out a hollow laugh. “If only it were really that exciting. No, it’s someone who prefers gender-neutral language, so I’m never sure how to decently phrase it. We’ve been exchanging letters for years.” 

“That’s nice,” Laura smiles. “I can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing about it.”

“Well it’s not that exciting, really,” Carmilla shrugs. “Especially since 1933, now that those Nazi-folks can just open private letters.”

Laura scoffs. “I seriously cannot wait until they back off. It puts so much pressure on work.” 

Speaking of which - Laura quickly glances at the clock and realizes if she doesn’t hurry she’ll be late. She quickly crams the remaining bread in her mouth.

“Oh, please don’t forget that my father is having dinner with us tonight,” Laura says as she hurriedly chews the last of her bread and gets up.

Carmilla nods. “As if I’d forget.”

“There’s a list in the kitchen of everything that needs to get done. I cleaned like, the entire apartment yesterday, but I want everything to be perfect, okay?” Laura rattles off, while she shrugs into her coat and picks up her attache case. 

“And don’t stress about dinner, I’m sure it will be perfect,” she adds as she pecks Carmilla’s lips. “I’ll see you tonight,”

Carmilla grabs her by her wrists and rises out of her chair, with that look in her eyes which means Laura won’t be able to show up for work just yet. Carmilla gives her a smirk as she softly presses a kiss to her neck. 

“Carm-”

“What?” Carmilla says as she trails up her neck. “I won’t be able to kiss you for the rest of the day.” 

“Carm, I- O-okay!” Laura stutters as she gives into the kisses. Just for a moment though, because Laura _really_ needs to get to work. Carmilla notices her hesitation and stops just when she’s at the corner of her lips, looking in her eyes. “I’m sorry, you’re free to go now.” 

Neither of them moves or breaks eye contact and then Carmilla carefully cups Laura’s head, softly kisses her lips. Laura’s eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Last one, I promise.”

“Seriously though, we need to act more like friends when my father is over tonight.” Laura chides softly.

“Wait, let me try,” Carmilla clears her throat. “I’ll see you tonight, _best friend!_ ” she says overenthusiastically and playfully bumps Laura’s shoulder.

Laura rolls with her eyes, and says with a smile, “Incredible. He won’t notice a thing.” 

\--

Laura opens the door and her father greets her with open arms. 

“There’s my Laura!” 

“Hey Dad!” Laura says breathlessly as she gets squeezed by his hug. 

“Mr. Hollis,” Carmilla says politely over Laura’s shoulder, offering a hand for him to shake.

“Please, I’ve told you before you can call me Peter.” 

“I don’t think I’ve showed you enough respect to duzen you already,” Carmilla says politely. 

Laura gives her a grin, because she knows Carmilla is trying her hardest to leave a good impression on her dad every time. 

“Well, you have my permission to do so,” Peter replies. “But whenever you feel ready, I guess.” 

She smiles at him and turns to look at Laura. “I thought you remodelled your room a while ago? Maybe you should show it to your father while I serve dinner.”

“Remo- right! _Right!_ ” Laura’s eyes widen at the realization. Pretending to be roommates is harder than it looks. She gives her dad a smile. 

“After you,” he says as he gestures in the direction of the bedrooms. 

Laura gives Carmilla a quick helpless look as she walks past her. She almost walks to their actual bedroom, but catches herself in time and walks to the room that is supposed to be her room. It’s relatively small filled by a bed, closet and a desk. They actually use this room more as an extra study than anything else, the bed and closet are only for appearances. But it feels unfamiliar to her compared to their actual bedroom. 

“So, this is it,” Laura says and awkwardly gestures around the room. 

Her father nods and looks around the room. “You hung new curtains, didn’t you?”

“I did?” Laura asks and immediately wants to slap herself in the face. “I mean, yes I did. I’m surprised you noticed.” 

She quickly glances over the room, because she remembers that they bought some new furniture but she has no idea what it actually was. Her father probably has a better idea of what used to be in this room than she does. 

“And I think I got a new closet as well.”

“You _think_?” her father laughs. 

“Well, i-it’s a while since I actually remodeled it so I’m already used to it,” Laura blurts out.

He gives her a pat on the shoulder. “It looks gorgeous, honey. You have a very nice apartment.” 

“Thanks,” she says. “So, shall we head back and get some dinner?” 

“That’s what I’m here for after all,” he jokes. 

They walk back into the living room, and somehow Carmilla has turned their table into a dining feast in the short amount of time they were gone. When Carmilla looks up, Laura shoots her a glance that hopefully says _‘never pull that shit on me ever again’_. She knows she had to, though. They have to sell their roommate story every time, but the least Carmilla could have done was warn her beforehand. 

“Just in time for dinner,” Carmilla announces, expression carefully blank in the face of Laura’s glare. 

“Excellent! This looks absolutely delicious.” Peter says warmly. 

“See?” Laura tells Carmilla with a teasing smile. “I’m not the only one to think so.” 

Carmilla rolls her eyes, but smiles anyway. Laura reaches over and brushes her hand deliberately over Carmilla’s as she reaches for the salt shaker, making Carmilla jump slightly. Carmilla narrows her eyes at her over the table but doesn’t say anything. Two can play at that game. 

She waits until they’ve moved onto the second course before she slowly slips her foot around Laura’s ankle.

Laura clears her throat and gives Carmilla a threatening look. Carmilla gives her an innocent smile. Laura clears her throat again and her father looks up in confusion.

“Everything alright, Laura?” He asks.

“I’m fine,” Laura says and quickly grabs her glass and points at herself. “Something stuck in my throat.” 

She takes a deep gulp of her wine, but as she does Carmilla strikes again and Laura nearly spit out her drink.

“OKAY,” Laura jumps up. “I’m going to get some more… wine. Dad?”

“Yeah sure.”

“ _Carmilla?_ ”

She gives her a charming smile. “That would be lovely, Laura.”

Laura looks her dead in the eyes as she walks past into the kitchen. Carmilla is going to pay for that later.

She grabs the bottle of wine from the kitchen and then heads back to the table. When she leans over the table to politely fill Carmilla’s glass, Carmilla makes a face at her, and Laura nearly spills wine on the tablecloth.

“Thanks Laura,” Carmilla says sweetly once Laura is back in her seat. 

“You are very welcome, Carmilla,” Laura tells her stiffly, giving her a glance that she hopes says ‘ _Cut it out!’_.

Carmilla smiles back, and doesn’t say anything, so Laura counts it as a win.

Laura’s father glances between them both happily and gives them a wide smile, apparently none the wiser to their little exchange.

"You two are such good friends."

Carmilla has a hard time not choking at his words. She can hear her mother's voice echoing in her head saying the exact same thing.

"I once had such a good friend as well," Peter continues.

Now Laura is the one who almost chokes. She swallows quickly and while reaching for her glass says, “You did?" 

"I did," her father says, almost proudly. "His name was Paul and we'd known each other since we were kids."

"He died in the war," he continues and has to work to keep up his smile. "Good fellow." 

The table falls into silence, and Laura and Carmilla both shovel food into their mouths to avoid speaking.

“So,” He coughs awkwardly to break the silence. “How’s work going?”

“Good, as far as it can be, working under censorship,” Laura says. “But don’t worry I’m not bending any rules. I’m not getting myself in trouble, so there’s no need for pitchforks.” 

Mr. Hollis addresses Carmilla with a grin. “You never know with this one.”

Carmilla returns the smile. “Yes, I’ve noticed she can be pretty stubborn.” 

“Seriously? Right here,” Laura gestures at herself in mock offense. 

“What did you do for living again, Carmilla?” Peter playfully ignores Laura and gives her a wink.

“Oh, I basically work for my mother,” Carmilla plays along seriously. “I guess you can say I work as a ghostwriter for her. She’s a very busy woman after all. Sometimes I need to go to meetings instead of her, because there is only so much one person can handle on their own.”

He nods. “Your mother sure has a lot of influence. I can’t believe my Laura is roommates with a famous person.”

Carmilla blinks nervously. “I doubt I’m famous. I haven’t really accomplished anything in life except being lucky enough to be adopted by Ms. Morgan.” 

“Don’t say that,” Laura chimes in and only just stops herself from reaching for Carmilla’s hand, has to play it off by quickly grabbing her glass. “You might not be admired by millions, but you’re incredibly smart.” She turns to her father with a proud smile. “She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Almost every book you can see in this room, Carmilla has already read.”

“Yeah, but you would too if you could speak French.”

“You speak French?” Mr. Hollis asks impressed.

“And English and even Dutch,” Laura says proudly. 

“Okay, no, I said I could figure out some Dutch sentences because it’s similar to German. And my English is nothing compared to my French.”

Laura gives her a warm smile. “You’re just being modest.” 

“It’s incredible to see how such young women like you are so bright,” Peter tells them. “I find it strange you’re both single. Have either of you talked to a handsome young man recently?” 

“Dad, the world doesn’t revolve around men anymore,” Laura says with a sigh. “Aren’t you glad I’m focusing on my career?” 

“Yes of course, but after all, only women can give birth.” 

Laura shoots Carmilla a desperate look. 

“Honestly, I think the stories of how you heroically protected Laura from a bear-attack when she was a child scares most of them away,” Carmilla tries to change the subject.

Her comment works, causing Mr. Hollis to bellow a loud laugh. 

“That must be it!” 

Laura mouths a _‘thank you’_ to Carmilla and she returns it with a smile.

\--

The rest of the dinner goes pretty smoothly and it seems like Mr. Hollis wouldn’t realize they were girlfriends even if they were to say it out loud. When he leaves they wave him goodbye and Laura closes the door behind him with a sigh, turning to slump with her back against the door.

Carmilla wraps her arms around Laura’s waist and tugs her into a loose hug. “So how did I do?” 

“If he didn’t like you already he sure as hell does now,” Laura says as she drapes her arms around Carmilla’s neck. 

“So I guess you could say I-” Carmilla says as she grabs Laura under her knees and lifts her in her hands. “... swept him off his feet?”

“Oh, smooth, very smooth,” Laura says impressed.

Carmilla smirks and softly spins around, making Laura giggle.

“Carm!” Laura shrieks as they almost crash into a wall. 

“What?” Carmilla grins as she comes to a stop. 

Laura tips her head back to look Carmilla in the eyes, and then sighs happily as Carmilla leans in to kiss her. They relax into one another, comforted by being so close after an evening spent carefully apart. 

Laura slowly opens her eyes and blinks twice, lips still tingling. “Don’t think for a second I forgot what you did during dinner, you little devil. You’re definitely cleaning the dishes tonight.”

“Worth it,” Carmilla says, and smiles into their next kiss.

Vadum Francorum - _Italy joins the Anti-Comintern Pact_

ROME, 6 Nov. 1937 - This morning at around 11 o’clock the Anti-Comintern Pact will be signed in Palazzo Chigi. The protocol will be signed for Italy by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Count Ciano. The Anti-Comintern Pact was first signed by Germany and Japan on 25 November 1936. The pact is established to protect each other against a potential communist threat, most notably the Soviet Union. In case of an attack the parties have agreed to consult on what measures to take “to safeguard our common interests”. The parties have also agreed to not make any political treaties with the Soviet Union. 

“I really liked the article you wrote in today’s paper,” Carmilla announces as Laura enters the room.

Laura’s face lights up. “How did you know it was mine?”

Carmilla gives her a grin. “As if I can’t recognize your writing style.”

Laura quickly leans down and pecks her lips. 

“I really need to go. Early meeting,” Laura says before heading to the door. “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t forget to get the groceries today!” 

“I won’t,” Carmilla says and watches as Laura leaves. “Have fun at work!”

Carmilla slowly finishes her breakfast as she reads the paper from front to back. She dumps the dishes in the sink, because she has some time this afternoon when she can clean them. Or maybe she can just let them be until after dinner. Carmilla checks the grocery list Laura had left on the kitchen counter for her. She puts it in her coat pocket and takes a bag while softly humming a song. She is absently walking out of the door when she almost runs into someone. She lets out an irritated huff. “Watch where-” she recognizes the jewelry. Her eyes shoot straight up. 

“Y-you know we have a doorbell, right Maman?” Carmilla says, as she feels her face turn pale.

“I just arrived,” Lilita says with a smile. “Perfectly timed to see my own daughter again.”

“To what do I owe this unannounced visit?” Carmilla says, trying not to choke on her words. 

“I needed to speak with you in private, without your little _friend_ listening in,” Lilita says in a sharp tone. 

Did she wait until Laura was at work? Had she been spying on them? Carmilla starts to feel sick to her stomach.

“Can we m-maybe reschedule? I was about to go get some groceries-” 

“This won’t take long,” Lilita says as she firmly guides both Carmilla and herself back into the apartment. 

Lilita closes the door and scans the room and after a long silence she lets her eyes rest on Carmilla.

“You look awful, sweetheart,” Lilita says. “Everything alright?” 

Carmilla bites her lip. “Yeah, I’ve been up all night trying to get some work done.” 

Lilita narrows her eyes and stares into Carmilla’s, as if she’s carefully planning her next attack. A small smile curls on her lips. 

"You like the night, don't you darling?" Lilita says while she glides through the room. "At least in the dark people won't be able to see your little secrets." 

She picks up a photo of Laura and that mocking smile is back on her face as she turns to Carmilla. "Your roommate sure is gorgeous, isn't she?"

"To each their own I guess," Carmilla says nervously.

"You know," Lilita says as she puts the photo back in place. "She kind of reminds me of another girl." 

Carmilla freezes. For the love of God, please don't bring it up. 

Lilita slowly walks back towards Carmilla and pretends she is thinking. "I can't quite put my finger on it. Can you help me out? It sounded a lot like- Just. One. Letter." 

Her wicked smile curls up on her face as she stands right in front of her, Carmilla has to look up to meet her eyes. 

"Was her name _Ell?_ "

Jackpot.

"Guess what, darling, I'm not blinded by the dark like everybody else," Lilita says, coming around to the point. "I know you've been playing with me, like I am some sort of toy. Neglecting the work I gave to you. Let me tell you this little game you’re playing is nothing compared to the real deal.” 

“I’m not-”

“Don’t lie to your mother!” Her voice is a sharp warning, one that Carmilla knows by heart. “I know what you are, sweetheart. I know _who_ you are. I know you better than anyone else in this world. And let me tell you, I might have some influence in this country, but believe me when I say that covering up your scandal, making sure it wasn't all over the news, was quite the trouble I went through for you."

"I know." 

“You know?” Lilita asks mockingly. “Then start acting like it. I gave you a job and I pay you handsomely for it. Without me you wouldn’t even be able to afford your groceries let alone this apartment. Do you want to lose everything you own?”

Carmilla shakes her head. 

“Good,” Lilita says. 

There is a smile on her face again, but this one is softer. She tucks a lock of Carmilla’s hair behind her ear and kisses her forehead. Brings her hands to rest on Carmilla’s shoulders. 

“I’ll see your full report on my desk within a week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important Announcement Time!!**  
>  For the next two weeks, _there will be no chapter updates_. Instead, we will be posting a secondary story with the backstory of JP and LaFontaine, posted in two parts. All the news, and links to that will be posted in the [Carmilla 30s AU tag](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) on Tumblr. We will be back with Chapter 6 on **March 18!**


	7. Glass and Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything is crystal clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings** : anti-semitism

Frankfurter Neue Zeitung - _Raid on Polish Jews_

BERLIN 28 Oct. 1938 - At 5 this morning around 20.000 Polish Jews have been arrested and deported to the Polish border. According to some sources all Polish Jews got an order yesterday to leave Germany within 24 hours. This is because of a measure earlier this year by the Polish government, wherein people who have lived longer than five years abroad would have their Polish citizenship withdrawn. As a last resort German authorities started a raid on Polish Jews who most likely will not get a renewed Polish passport, since Poland refused a German proposal earlier to find another compromise. 

Laura sighs at the loud noise of her alarm clock. She reaches out with one arm and swats at it lazily, eyes still shut tight. With the third hit it finally shuts off and she plops back against her pillow. With her other hand she reaches for Carmilla, but instead she’s finds nothing but cold and empty sheets.

Her eyes jump wide open and she shoots up in bed. Her heart beat picks up speed as her eyes scan the room. 

“Carm?” Laura says in a shaky voice, but there is no sign of her girlfriend. 

She jumps out of bed and quickly checks the bathroom. When she’s can’t find her there either all kinds of grim scenarios start running through her head. She half runs into the living room and her panic immediately drains away when she sees Carmilla asleep on a bunch of paperwork. Laura smiles a little at how peaceful she is when she’s asleep. 

“Carm?” she asks softly.

Carmilla jerks awake at the sound of her voice and quickly scrambles all her files together. “Woah. Hey. You scared me.”

“You scared _me_ when you weren’t in bed,” Laura frowns. “I know you’re sometimes awake at night, but you’re always next to me when I wake up.” 

Carmilla sighs. “I’m sorry. You know my sleep schedule is fucked up. I couldn’t fall asleep tonight so I decided to do some work instead. I guess I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“We should maybe check on your insomnia.”

“It’s just me being nocturnal. I like the night, that’s all,” Carmilla says and lets out a big yawn. 

Laura raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I can see that Count Dracula. You sure are a creature of the night.”

Carmilla picks up her paperwork and stands up, walking towards Laura, “All the better to kiss you, my dear,” she says as she pecks her lips.

“You do realize you just quoted the wolf in Red Riding Hood, right?” 

“I did, didn’t I?” She tries to keep her eyes open and then before she realizes, lets out another yawn. “Yeah. I’m just going to go to bed,” she kisses Laura’s cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodmorning to you too,” Laura says jokingly. 

Carmilla groans as she walks towards their bedroom. “It’s the night, Hollis. Dammit!” 

Laura has a grin on her face as she walks towards the kitchen and make some breakfast. She hopes some hours of sleep will do Carmilla good. Whatever she was working on late at night must be killing her.

Die Gemeinschaft - _Shooting German embassy in Paris._

PARIS, 8 Nov. 1938 - Yesterday Ernst vom Rath got shot in the German embassy in Paris. The shooter, a 17-year-old Polish Jew named Herschel Grynszpan, got to Rue de Lille and shot him five times. Vom Rath is severely wounded. According to Grynszpan his motives were to revenge his fellow Jews who are deported out of Germany. It’s difficult not to see the similarities with the assassination on Swiss NSDAP leader Wilhelm Gustloff, who got killed by the Jew David Frankfurter on 4 February 1936. It would be no surprise if these shootings are part of a bigger international group plotted against national-socialism. Jews will no longer be able to get away with this behaviour and should be punished. 

Carmilla peeps around the door jam, and then steps through and softly closes the door behind her.

“Laura?” Carmilla asks playfully. “Where are you?”

“In the bathroom!” Laura shouts back.

“Get out here! Come look! I have a surprise for you.”

Carmilla hears the sound of an exaggerated sigh, and then Laura’s footsteps on the wooden floor of the apartment as she walks down the hall.

“I am trying to get some housework done,” Laura grumbles quietly as she walks through the doorway, pulling off her cleaning gloves with an annoyed expression. 

When she see’s Carmilla, she stops abruptly and her eyes go wide.

“Look what I found!” Carmilla says and holds up the little black kitten in her arms. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“It’s a cat,” Laura says through gritted teeth. 

“Yeah!” Carmilla says enthusiastically. “I found him on the street, he followed me all the way home.”

“It has a collar on!” Laura’s says in her most dangerous tone of voice, staring at Carmilla accusingly.

“So?”

“So!?” The pitch of Laura’s voice rising steadily. “So, you _stole_ someone’s cat!”

“Then we’ll put a new collar on it.”

“No Carmilla! You take it back where you found it right now!”

“Why?” Carmilla asks, angrily. “He was left out in the cold, obviously his owner doesn’t take very good care of him.”

“You don’t know that!” Laura practically yells at her. “God, you are so entitled sometimes.”

Laura’s words are like a slap to Carmilla’s face. She instinctually cuddles the little cat closer in her arms.

“I am not _entitled_.” Carmilla spits out.

“You stole someones cat, Carm. And you are so out of touch with the world that you think it’s _okay_.” Laura chokes out a sound like a laugh or a sob. “Stealing is against the law, and nobody, not even _you_ , is above the law.”

Carmilla stiffens at Laura’s words. “I didn’t steal him,” she says, and it sounds weak even to her own ears. “I rescued him. I just wanted to-”

“Just wanted to what?” Laura cuts her off. “Just wanted to take someone else’s pet? Just wanted to bring us to the attention of the police, of the people who could ruin our lives if they found out the truth? What exactly did you want to do, Carmilla?”

Carmilla wants to say something, anything, but the words seem to stick in her throat. Laura just stares back at her, her expression angry and unforgiving.

After a long pause, Laura huffs. “Take the cat back, before someone realises it’s missing,” she says in a sad, flat voice.

“Fine. Okay. I’ll put him back out. I just wanted to do something-” Carmilla cuts herself off, shakes her head. 

_Happy. She wanted to do something happy._

\-- 

Carmilla sets the small kitten down on the ground and frowns helplessly at the small sound he makes when she releases him from the warmth of her grip. She stands smoothly and tries to keep herself from leaning down to pet him as he winds around her legs.

“You have to stay here,” she tells the cat sensibly, but he doesn’t pay her much attention. She sighs, and reaches down to scoop him up and deposit him away from her. This time he doesn’t move closer to her, and she wonders if she is just imagining the look of hurt and mistrust in his eyes. She wouldn’t trust herself either.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and then turns around and starts walking back toward the flat. She tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket because she forgot to put her gloves back on when she left, and it’s truly starting to get cold.

By the time she reaches the flat again her entire body feels slightly numb, from the cold or from anticipation of the unfinished fight she has to return to, she isn’t sure which.

She opens the door hesitantly and steps through, spotting Laura immediately, sitting silently at the table facing away from the door.

“The cat is gone as requested,” Carmilla says with a sigh as she closes the door. She watches Laura for a moment, notices how stiff her back is.

“What is up with you lately?” Carmilla says.

Laura scoffs and turns to look at Carmilla. “Up with _me_? You’re one to talk!” 

Carmilla sighs. She is right. Maman has putting a lot of pressure on her lately. She walks over to Laura and sits down next to her at the table, movements hesitant.

“Okay,” Carmilla says. “I’m going to regret this, but tell me what’s wrong.” 

Laura looks at her and sighs, with an air of defeat. 

"I just feel that the last few months- you're closing me out. You're always up at night and you sleep in the mornings. And when you are awake you're always tense, cranky with me over the littlest things," Laura says. "I don't know what happened, but if there is something, please, let me know. Because I don't like this one bit."

Laura looks away, and Carmilla squeezes her eyes shut. Laura’s words hit her hard, mostly because it is all so awfully true. She has been distant and terse with Laura, the weight of her recent actions hanging like a dark cloud over Carmilla’s head no matter what she is doing. The more she lies to Laura, the harder it all gets. But the truth would be far more unbearable.

"There are just some things haunting me. Things I'm not very proud of," Carmilla mumbles. "And I'd rather not talk about it." 

"But maybe it’d be better if you did," Laura says earnestly, as she lays a hand on Carmilla’s shoulder.

"God!" Carmilla jumps up at Laura's touch. "Could you please leave me alone for _once_?"

When she sees Laura's broken expression she immediately regrets it.

"I didn't mean-"

"Of course not," Laura shakes her head and shrugs, avoiding Carmilla’s eyes. "You always do this. Whenever you're about to show some emotion you just- backpedal out of it."

Carmilla wished Laura would just shout at her. Shouting would hurt less than that tone of defeat. Her voice cracks when she says, "I'm going to work in the study."

"Okay," Laura says in that same flat tone. "Dinner will be at six." 

\--

Carmilla spends the duration of dinner pushing food around her plate in an attempt to distract herself from the overwhelming silence. Laura is sitting across from her, leg jiggling restlessly under the table and managing to look anywhere but at Carmilla. For her own part, Carmilla can barely keep her eyes away. Neither of them speak, and it is such a juxtaposition to all the other dinners they have had together, full of idle chatter that always made Carmilla feel light and free. The silence that they are currently sharing seems to weigh her down. 

Laura’s knife scrapes harshly across her plate, and they both flinch. For a moment, Carmilla thinks that Laura is going to say something, but then the silence stretches for a beat too long, and Carmilla returns her fork to her plate. 

When both their plates are cleared, Carmilla practically sighs in relief.

“I can clean the dishes,” she offers weakly, finally breaking the silence.

“Please leave those goddamn dishes for once,” Laura says. It’s the first time Carmilla has ever heard her say that. She points at the couch instead. “We need to talk. Right now.” 

Laura stands up, chair scraping against the floor, and Carmilla follows her meekly. They walk away from the table, dishes sitting untouched where they were sitting. The sight is so unfamiliar that it makes Carmilla dizzy. Or maybe she is just scared of what happens next.

Laura sits down on the couch, leaning back into the leather and pulling her legs up to tuck her knees under her chin. It makes her look smaller than usual, like a child. Carmilla sits down next to her, and the empty space between them on the couch makes her feel slightly sick.

“What’s wrong, Carm?” Laura blurts out. She reaches out hesitantly and rests her hand on Carmilla’s knee. “What is wrong with us?”

Carmilla doesn’t answer. There are so many things that she can’t say, and so many that she wishes that she could. Laura sighs, and speaks again.

“Something is wrong. Something has changed,” she gestures vaguely between them as she continues, “There is something _between_ us. And I don’t understand it, but I hate it. So you have to tell me, so we can fix it.”

Carmilla swallows thickly. Laura’s tone is so fiercely determined, and she is looking at Carmilla with her bright eyes that are so quick to see the good in everyone. It would break Laura’s heart if she knew how much Carmilla has hidden from her. 

“Sometimes I feel like we’re too obvious. We’re not as anonymous as I’d like to be because I’m the daughter of Ms. Morgan. And my mother-” Carmilla pauses, and squeezes her eyes shut before continuing thickly, “Maman has always needed me to be known in certain circles, that is how my life has always been. We could never just disappear, no matter how hard I wish that we could. Questions would be asked.”

Laura is looking at her with eyes full of shattered dreams, and Carmilla can barely stand it. It used to be that her love for Laura was the one thing that kept her from falling to pieces, but recently all it does is try and tear things apart.

“I just wish...” she trails off and sighs. “That things were different.”

“I get that,” Laura says. “You’re not the only one who has to make sacrifices. I have to lie to my dad and my closest friends as well. And it hurts. Every time it hurts more to lie. And every morning when I wake up I ask myself if it’s still worth it. Worth the lie.” She looks Carmilla in the eyes. “I always replied with a confident yes until last week.” 

Carmilla swallows, and she can’t stand to look at Laura right now, because in no universe does she deserve someone as good as Laura. If anything, Laura’s words just make her feel more disgusted than ever with herself.

“I understand if that’s hard to respond to,” Laura admits. “But I want you to know where I stand with you.”

Laura takes a deep breath. “You know, I’ve always had this gut feeling that you’ve hidden something from me. I never asked, because I know how difficult it is for you to talk about this stuff. And I figured you’d eventually trust me enough to tell me on your own terms. But that doesn’t mean you can just lie to me.”

Carmilla nods. Yeah, she definitely doesn’t deserve Laura. 

“I know,” is all she says.

Völkischer Observator - _No More Mercy_

9 Nov. 1938 - The Frankfurter man Ernst vom Rath died today. As a society we simply cannot stand by and watch as Jews kill our people. We have given Jews the choice to leave our country, but those who refuse to leave on their own must be forced to leave! We call for all Germans to show our outrage at the killing spree the Jews are carrying out. This violence against our nation will die tonight! 

A loud crack of breaking glass startles Laura awake. She immediately grabs for Carmilla’s hand, and Laura feels her jump at the touch. Awkwardly she pulls back her hand and asks quietly, “What’s going on?”

“No idea,” Carmilla says in a sleepy voice and adds, sounding annoyed, “It’s been going on for almost twenty minutes now.”

She can hear Carmilla yawn and she can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. Leave it to Carmilla to not care about the world around them. Laura throws back the blankets and walks towards the nearest window. She shoves the curtain aside and tries to see what’s going on. There seems to be people running on the street, and many of them are shouting. Windows are being shattered and the street is full of broken objects thrown from buildings. There is a dark, unpleasant smell to the air and she can see smoke billowing from a building that is awfully close to the synagog. It takes a second before her sleep-addled brain catches up. She lets out a gasp and immediately closes the curtain and turns around. 

“People are actually hurting all Jews for what _one kid_ did in Paris?” Laura asks in disbelief.

Carmilla lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re _surprised_?” 

She tries to ignore Carmilla’s awful comment, because this is _not_ a laughing matter. “We need to get out there, find out what’s going on!”

“Okay sweetiepie-chocolate-bun-honey-cupcake, I get that it’s all exciting, and your journalistic instincts are tingling right now, but an orgy of violence is not really how I want to spend my night.” 

“Carm! You’re not listening,” Laura says, starting to lose her patience. She walks towards Carmilla’s side of the bed and grabs her by the shoulders. “They are raiding _Jewish_ shops!”

Carmilla blinks slowly. “Yeah?”

“ _Perry might be in danger_ ,” Laura shakes her girlfriend, her tone slightly desperate. She needs Carmilla to understand how serious this is.

Carmilla sighs. “Please don’t say you want to go outside.”

“Of course we’re going outside!” Laura lets go of her and turns to flick on the light. 

Carmilla makes a sound of disgust as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the bright light.

Laura tosses some clothes in Carmilla’s direction as she quickly dresses herself. 

“These aren’t even my clothes,” Carmilla says.

“Oh _now_ you’re suddenly concerned about whose clothes are which?” 

“Alright then,” Carmilla mumbles and reluctantly starts changing.

Laura taps her fingers impatiently against the closet. Carmilla lets out a small huff and shoots Laura a look. “You trying to take off there, sweetheart? I think your engine might overload.” 

“I’m compensating for your lack of effort.” 

Carmilla shakes her head, but leaves it at that. Laura tries to ignore the flash of pride at Carmilla giving up an argument. But she sure as hell is testing Laura’s patience right now, dressing at the speed of a snail. 

By the time Carmilla is slowly buttoning up her blouse Laura has had enough and yanks Carmilla off the bed. “C’mon lets go!”

\--

Their bickering immediately stops when they walk outside the building. Carmilla takes in the shattered glass that covers the street. It looks like a crystal ball has exploded above the city, and they all collectively snapped out of its magic. The spell of ignorance is broken. Suddenly it’s crystal clear that the Nazis will do anything to achieve their disgusting goal of creating a superior race that rises above all other humans who are ‘un-German’. Glass is fragile after all, just like society’s pride. 

“Lets go back inside,” Carmilla suggests, even though she knows Laura won't listen to her. 

“Not before I see Perry,” Laura says stubbornly as she pushes her way through the crowd.

Carmilla follows her and tries to make sure Laura is never out of her sight. She winces at the sound of another window breaking. There is no point in trying to persuade Laura to turn back, she won’t be satisfied until she finds Perry. 

When they walk past Perry’s old bakery they see the building is empty, probably because nobody wants to take over a shop that was formerly owned by a Jew. The windows are shattered though, and the door is flung wide open. Carmilla squints her eyes and sees someone is in there, rummaging through whatever stuff is left there. She shoots Laura a look, but it seems she hasn’t noticed, still walking in the direction of Perry’s apartment. Maybe it’s for the better. 

They are only a block away from Perry’s apartment when Carmilla sees two cops push someone in a van filled with people. Her heart skips a beat when she recognizes Perry by her mess of curly hair. She is squished into the van with at least ten men and Carmilla wonders why Perry was arrested at all. Their eyes meet and she can see the absolute fear in Perry’s eyes, not knowing what will happen next. Carmilla thinks she must regret her decision to stay. She should’ve taken Carmilla’s offer to leave the country a few years back. Carmilla wishes that she had, more than anything. She _should_ have taken it. But they both know it’s too late now. 

She wants to break eye contact and get the hell out of here, when Laura suddenly speaks up.

“Is that-?”

“Move,” Carmilla says, suddenly acutely aware of the mob that they are surrounded by, and pushes Laura down a side street.

“What are you doing?” Laura whispers angrily and tries to wrestle herself out of Carmilla’s firm grip.

“Not here,” Carmilla whispers harshly, not letting her tight grip on Laura loosen. “At home.” 

\-- 

The door of their apartment isn’t closed for a second before Laura explodes. “Why the fuck would you do that? You had no right!”

“I had no right? Sure, I’d love to see my girlfriend getting taken away, because of her tendency to make rash decisions.” 

Laura scoffs. “I do not!”

“You know what? I’m not going to have this conversation with you when you’re like this,” Carmilla shakes her head. “I’m going to bed and we’ll talk about it when you calmed down.”

She is about to walk off when Laura grabs her by her arm. “Oh no, you are _not_ going to just walk out of this one! If you didn’t take so long to get dressed in the first place we might have been able to save her!”

Carmilla turns around angrily and shakes Laura’s hand off. “HEY! You know that’s bullshit, Laura. Those two minutes wouldn’t have done jackshit,” Carmilla yells back. “And what if we saved her in time, huh? What then? Perry would’ve freaked out and handed herself in to the police. Then _we_ would have been arrested as well for harbouring a Jew.”

“Do you actually think Perry is so stupid?” Laura asks angrily. “I’m sorry if we didn’t all have a mother who spent millions on an _incredible_ education like yours, but that doesn’t make us imbeciles.”

“I never said Perry was stupid, but we both know that when she is freaking out she doesn’t make the most rational decisions,” Carmilla says and then adds bitterly, “And leave my mother out of this, because that’s just _low_.” 

Laura takes a shuddery breath, knowing that last comment was one step too far and nods. “Okay, but we’ve got to at least check her apartment. Make sure people didn’t break in.”

“Laura no, we can’t do that!” 

“Why the hell not!?” Laura spits out, back to the loud volume. “We were going there in the first place. I will _not_ let my friend down no matter how corrupt our government is! Fucking hell, Carmilla, Perry is my _friend_! I can’t believe you want me to just stand here and do _nothing!_ ” 

“Did you fucking want to go smash some Jewish buildings instead?” Carmilla shouts back. “Because that’s what we were looking at. Either join in to not look suspicious or get the hell out of there. I chose the latter.”

“But you can’t make the decision _for_ me!” Laura’s voice increases in volume. “Okay? You just shoved me out of there like a puppet. It’s _my_ life and _my_ decision. I may not always make the best decisions, but I once stood by and watched a Jew getting punished for being in _love_ and I have never forgiven myself for not doing something. But to see _Perry_ getting taken away, one of my dearest friends,” she pauses and levels a determined gaze at Carmilla. “I am never going to forgive myself for just walking past her and I’m going to do whatever I can to try and save her.”

Laura turns around and grabs the keys from the table.

“Listen to me, Laura. Laura,” Carmilla grabs weakly at Laura’s shoulder and Laura turns, but keeps her eyes turned to the floor. 

“Laura. Look at me, Laura.” She finally looks up, and the look in her eyes is so hard and unwavering that it almost scares Carmilla. She swallows, because what she is going to say next is going to hurt. Possibly start another huge fight between them, maybe even be the thing that is going to break them apart, but she has to say it.

“Perry is gone. Okay? We cannot save her. She might come back, but there is nothing we can do about it. I know this is fucking hard to accept, but there is nothing in this world we can do. You can be upset about it. You can be angry about it. I know you will. I know _I_ will. But we cannot show it. To anyone. We need to carry on as if nothing happened. As if it was her only rightful place. That is the world we live in. And it is fucking horrible. And it is fucking unfair. But please listen to me when I say that we cannot show it. We’re already playing a dangerous game. Anybody could betray us at any moment.” 

She pauses for a second and adds softly, “I don’t want to come home one day and realize the same fate has come to you.” 

Carmilla sees the anger in Laura’s eyes slowly fade away. Fear takes it place. Carmilla takes this as a sign that it’s safe to hug her now. Laura immediately leans in and buries her head in Carmilla’s chest. In silence they both cherish the only warmth they have in this cold world.

"Why didn’t we save her before? Why didn’t she flee to England?"

"It was her choice to stay. She had her reasons. We couldn't force her." 

Carmilla feels Laura take a shaky breath.

“I’m scared, Carm,” she whispers against her shirt.

She doesn’t even need to look at her face to know that Laura is crying. Carmilla closes her eyes and tries not to let too much emotion into her voice. She tightens her grip on Laura, can’t bear to let her go and risk losing her forever. 

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to come yell at us at our tumblr's ([ellianderjoy](http://ellianderjoy.tumblr.com/) and [bannedfromzoos](http://bannedfromzoos.tumblr.com/)) for causing this tragedy. The [carmilla 30s au tumblr tag](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) is where you can find updates.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Exposure and Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lilita Morgan has some devastating news and Carmilla has nowhere to run to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** emotional abuse / manipulation

Vadum Francorum - _Still Hope For Peace_

BERLIN, 19 Jul. 1939 - It is becoming more and more clear that if we end up in a war with Poland, England will not hesitate to interfere. War is not what we should be striving for in the Danzig matter. Yet authoritative Polish figures still refuse to have political negotiations as long as Germany wants to incorporate the Free City of Danzig. Or as our Führer said: “We do not fear war, but we do not wish it either.” 

Carmilla sits restlessly in the waiting room. Her eyes bore into the brass plaque on Maman’s door until the secretary announces she is allowed to go in.

With a deep breath Carmilla stands up and enters the office. She is thrown off when she sees that Mother isn’t absorbed in some paperwork but is instead looking up at Carmilla, clearly waiting for her arrival.

“Close the door and come sit,” Mother commands quietly and points at the chair in front of her desk.

Carmilla slowly nods. The pit in her stomach has grown at least five sizes since entering the room. She sits down and Maman’s fierce eyes seem to pierce right into her soul.

“You’ve been discovered.”

The words fall like a bomb. Carmilla’s eyes grow bigger.

“W-what?” 

“Did you misunderstand? I spoke clearly, my German is very exact.”

“I’m so-“

“Stop apologizing, it's pathetic,” Lilita cuts Carmilla off in a hard tone. She leans forward to look even deeper into Carmilla’s eyes. “Answer me this: were or were you not snooping around on your last mission?”

Carmilla stammers, her brain seems to have blanked out.

“Answer me!”

“N-no!” Carmilla panics, buries her hands in her face. Her heart is pounding so hard she wonders if Mother can hear it. The last time Maman had shouted like this was when she found out about Ell.

“Don’t lie to me, darling. If you had done exactly what I told you, we now wouldn’t have the chairman of _Völkischer Observator_ threatening us,” Lilita continues, her voice sharper than Carmilla could ever remember it being. “Look at me when I talk to you!”

Carmilla looks up obediently and she squeezes her eyes shut at the dots that have appeared in her vision. She can’t seem get her breathing under control either. If Maman goes on like this Carmilla thinks she might faint.

Lilita’s posture relaxes a bit and her voice is calm, but cold, when she says, “Take a deep breath, honey.”

Carmilla does as she is told.

“And now breath out. Good,” Lilita says as she watches Carmilla. “Make sure you exhale longer than you inhale, sweetheart. Again.”

Slowly Carmilla’s heartbeat goes back to its regular pace and Lilita smiles at her. “Better?”

She nods.

“All right, now walk me through your last mission.”

“I-I went to their office at night and got the files you asked for when-” Carmilla stops mid-sentence when it suddenly hits her. She had briefly searched for some files, looking if she could find Perry’s name somewhere on a list. 

“When what?” Mother asks impatiently.

Carmilla swallows and has to order herself to look Maman in the eyes. “I tried to find out the whereabouts of my friend. S-she’s Jewish, you see. I must’ve… I must’ve put the files back out of order.”

Lilita lets out a long breath and sinks back in her chair again. The look of disapproval on her face is as foreboding as a bank of dark stormclouds in the distance. A warning of worse things to come. 

“It was at most two minutes! I swear!” Carmilla tries weakly to excuse herself. 

“Yet those two minutes are exactly what gave you away,” Lilita replies sharply. “I have warned you. I have explicitly told you how careful you should be when getting those particular files. That paper is run by Nazis. If you haven’t noticed they’re currently holding all the power in our country.” 

“I just thought that if I could find out in which concentration camp she’s held I could help her somehow,” Carmilla mumbles.

“Well? Did you find her?”

Carmilla shakes her head. “No.”

“Exactly,” Lilita says harshly. “You have gained nothing. If anything, those two minutes have costed your life.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“They followed you,” Lilita says hauntingly, watching as Carmilla’s face crumples. “Oh yes. And what they found was the daughter of Ms. Morgan coming home to her _girlfriend_.” 

Carmilla’s breath catches. “No. They can’t! We’ve been-”

“First of all, there shouldn’t have been a ‘we’ in the first place,” Lilita cuts over her excuses. “Secondly, you know the risks that come with your job. Has it ever even occurred to you in that pathetic mind of yours that if we can take our opponents down from the inside, others can do the same to us?” 

Carmilla winces and stares at her feet. 

“This is the second time! The _second_ time my entire company is on the verge of collapse. Single handedly brought down by you. Like that” Lilita snaps her fingers. “Gone. Goodbye to my wealth. Goodbye to my fortune. Goodbye to my life work that I have been building since the age of seventeen. All gone, in _two_ sloppy minutes.”

Lilita lets the words hang in the air and folds her hands neatly on her desk. “Look at me, darling.”

Cautiously Carmilla brings her head back up again, terrified to look Maman in the eyes.

“Listen to me carefully,” Lilita says, her voice soft, yet dangerously sharp. “If they have found out about this, who knows what more they’ve dug up from of your past. The only way your relationship with that girl, and all the other little secrets you’ve been keeping, won't be exposed to our entire nation is if you break up with her and never see her again.” 

Carmilla takes a breath to speak, but Maman isn’t finished yet.

“That way, I might be able to save both you and my good name,” Lilita says. “If not… Well, lets just say you might be able to see that Jewish friend of yours after all. Who knows what those Nazis will have in store for the _lesbian_ daughter of the famous Ms. Morgan.”

The word sounds bitter on her tongue. 

Carmilla blinks back the hot tears that are forming in her eyes and says in the strongest voice that she can muster, “But I love her.” It still comes out sound so, so small.

Lilita scoffs. 

“How can you say you love her when you haven’t even trusted her with your biggest secret?” she says, half sneering. “How do you know _she_ will still love you when she finds out what you really do for me?”

Carmilla turns her eyes back to the floor. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t _want_ to know. 

“You’re leaving her. Today,” Lilita say firmly. “That is not a request.” 

Carmilla nods. “Okay.” 

Lilita takes a deep breath, marking the end of her rant. “You may leave now. I don’t want you near me for a while.”

Slowly Carmilla stands up and walk towards the door. Her legs feel unsteady underneath her, like she spent the last half an hour running for her life, not simply sitting in her mother’s gilded office. 

However she can’t seem to bring herself to open the door and leave the office, maybe only just so she can delay the moment when she has to leave Laura. She holds the door knob in her hand. “Maman…” she hesitantly speaks.

There is no response, but Carmilla knows Mother heard her. “Have you… Have you ever loved me?”

The room is filled only with silence for a moment.

“You say that as if it’s an accusation.” 

Carmilla shakes her head. “It’s not. I’m sorry, it was a stupid question.”

“Wait, darling,” her Mother’s voice stops her before she can leave the room. Lilita rises smoothly from her chair and crosses the room, turns Carmilla to face her. Making sure the next few words are actually heard. 

“I’ve always loved you, Carmilla,” Lilita says as she carefully pushes a strand of hair out of Carmilla’s eyes. 

Tears sting in Carmilla’s eyes. She can’t remember the last time Maman said her name. 

“Since the moment I picked you up from that orphanage. You were just a little girl, sweet and beautiful, like you still are.” 

A tear rolls down her face and she closes her eyes. Presses her lips together, and wills herself not to cry, to hold the sobs in. She can’t be emotional in front of her mother. 

“There’s no need to cry, my dear. You’re a big girl now,” Mother says as she wipes the tear away with her thumb. 

Carmilla nods jerkily. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.” 

Mother drops her hands and smiles at her. Carmilla isn’t sure if it’s genuine or not. She never knows with Mother. Maybe the tears in her eyes are just making things blurry. 

“Thank you, Maman.”

\--

Carmilla rummages through their closet and throws an armful of clothes onto the bed. The trip she is about to make is going to be a long one. Which reminds her that she needs to pack some food as well. She quickly walks through to the kitchen and takes some bread and cheese that hopefully won’t go stale for another week or so. Her stomach flips every time she thinks about leaving Laura, but she has to. If she stays they’ll both get arrested. She can’t let that happen. And if she waits to say goodbye, it will only be harder. 

_How can you say you love her when you haven’t even trusted her with your biggest secret?_

Her whole chest aches as she grabs a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling a note for Laura. When she comes home from work in a few hours it will be an unpleasant surprise, but she can’t leave Laura thinking that she was taken away. She folds the paper and lays it on the dining table. Her hands rest on the smooth surface and she can’t help but remember all the times they spent here. How they would laugh and how comfortable they were together. Or how, whenever she didn’t want to get up yet, Laura would tuck her feet in Carmilla’s lap. All she had to do was tickle her feet to get her out of her seat in a second. 

A ghost of a smile appears on Carmilla’s lips, only to be wiped away a few seconds later when she remembers what a mess she has made. It’s best to leave now, before it will be too painful. She takes the food and walks back to their bedroom, shoves everything into a big duffel bag. She throws the bag over her shoulder and gives the room one more look before walking out. 

She heads down the corridor between their bedroom and living room and then stops when she sees Laura standing at the dining table. 

“N-no you shouldn’t be home yet,” Carmilla stammers.

Laura looks up and tears are running down her face. She holds up the note. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Carmilla lets the bag slide out of her hand and blinks back tears of her own. 

Laura walks towards her and Carmilla instinctively steps back. 

“Dear Laura, I have to leave you. We cannot be together anymore. Please don’t come looking for me.” Laura recites the note and adds disgustedly. “ _I love you, Carmilla._ ” 

“It’s not- If I- I can’t” Carmilla tries, her voice shaking. “It was only a matter of time before this happened.”

Laura crumples the note and throws it to the ground. “So you’re just going to run?”

“I have to. Mother said-”

“Of course! _Mother said_. Her word is almighty; we are mere ants in her great presence. I forgot for a second.” 

“Could you stop being so stuck-up and just _listen?_ ” Carmilla asks desperately.

She takes Laura’s hands, figuring it’s a bit late to be careful now anyway. “Laura, they found out about us.” 

She watches Laura’s face drop. “You mean-”

“If I haven’t left you by tomorrow morning they’ll publicly expose our relationship,” Carmilla says. “Maman will try anything in her power to save us, but she won’t go easy on me since it’s the second time this-”

“Wow stop. _Second_ time?” Laura asks unbelievable and lets go of Carmilla’s hands, “As in this has happened before?”

Carmilla pushes her hand through her hair and mutters a ‘fuck’. She looks at Laura but can’t muster up a response. 

“No, this is great. Really. It means you’ve been lying to me since the moment that we met. Which by the way, was 16 January 1930. Remember? And in those nine years we’ve known each other, six of which by the way, we’ve been in a committed relationship, it never even occurred to you to tell me about this other girl who you- who you loved, right?” 

“I wanted to. I really did. It’s just that… It’s more complicated than that, okay?”

“Fine,” Laura says and crosses her arms. “Convince me why you should run. Tell me why it was worth lying all those years and even worth leaving me with only this pathetic excuse of a note.” 

Carmilla sighs and gives in. The least Laura deserves is the truth. “Okay. We better sit down, this might take a while.”

\--

They sit down on the couch, which is the same couch they had their first kiss, Carmilla thinks absently. And the same couch they fell asleep on countless of times, and even the same couch they talked out many of their petty fights. But this isn’t one of those petty fights that can be solved by talking it out.

Laura is clearly waiting for Carmilla to start talking. It’s the betrayed look in her eyes that is killing Carmilla the most. She takes a deep breath and tries to remember everything she has felt so ashamed of and tried to lock away in her deepest part of her memory for the longest time. 

“In August 1927 I had just finished up my philosophy degree. I was looking for a job at the time, until one day Maman invited me over into her office and asked if I could do her a… _favor_.” 

She fiddles with her hands and stares down at her lap. “There was this young successful entrepreneur who uh- was standing in her way. I don’t know exactly what it was. But she asked me to go spy on him. Find out what his deal was. So being the faithful daughter that I was, I did what Maman asked me, even though I had questions about it.” 

“For weeks I followed the guy around and reported every little detail back to Maman. Until one day she ordered me to go inside. She wanted me to inspect some files about his most recent business plans.” 

She takes a deep breath. “And that’s how I met Ell. She busted me right on the spot, while I was going through the files. I knew by then she was his fiancée, but for some reason she helped me escape the building without getting caught.” 

Carmilla swallows. “I didn’t tell Maman, though. I just continued to observe this guy from a distance. Except Ell knew now. There was just something about her- and I... I should’ve known better. But I was only 21 and an absolute _idiot_ who had her hopes up way too high. I never did anything though. I just wanted to get the job done and never see her again. Except- one night, she came to me in secret when I was hiding in their backyard. We talked all night and when it was time for her to leave she kissed me goodbye.” 

Carmilla glances over at Laura, who is staring at her, wide eyed. She can’t believe she’s actually talking about Ell with Laura. “After that, was when our affair started. It must’ve been October by then. I’d never felt happier in my life at that point. Being Maman’s foster daughter I hadn’t had friends growing up, let alone someone I was in love with,” she takes another deep breath. “About a month later Maman visited me in my apartment, and told me she had found out. Mother was furious with me. Not only was this a lesbian relationship, it was an _affair_. Ell was the fiancée of one of the richest and most successful young entrepreneurs of that time. And I was _spying_ on them for Mother. If that had come out in the media, it would not only have been a tremendous scandal, it would’ve ruined Maman’s entire career.” 

“Problem was, someone _had_ already find out. That’s how Maman knew, because they tried to blackmail her with the information. She went to great lengths to cover it all up and had to pay a lot of money to silence them. Of course, she told me I had to break things off with Ell. I thought that maybe we could run away together, but when I proposed it she-”

Carmilla cuts herself off and has to wipe away her tears. “She denied that she ever loved me, even though she had said so countless times. When I tried to reason with her she slapped me in the face and told me I had exactly five seconds to leave and never return. A-and I never knew if she ever actually loved me or if she was in it for the money somehow. All I know is that she never told her fiancée and she ended up married to him.” 

Laura reached for Carmilla’s hand while she was talking and is holding it gently in her lap. Carmilla takes a deep breath and continues.

“To repay for the damage I had done, Maman decided I would work for her. Spy on her competition. Get dirt on them. Try and take the company down from the inside. Only this time, Mother would make sure to closely watch my every step.” 

She looks up at Laura. “That’s why I’ve been working all those late nights. Maman would give me files of her latest targets. I would try and find their weak spots. Try to find a way to blackmail them the same way people tried to blackmail Mother with my scandal. Especially with the national-socialist party rising she had even more reason to dig up everyone’s secrets for the chance to expose them. _Everyone has a buried secret_ , she would always say. _You just have to dig deep enough._ ”

“What about your mother?” Laura asks. “What is her secret?”

Carmilla shakes her head. "I'm the only dirt they ever got on her."

“So that’s what you’ve been doing all those years. Blackmailing people?” 

“I guess so. I tried to get out of it, but Maman has the scandal on me, like she has dirt on other influential people. It’s one of the reasons she is still so powerful, even now.” Carmilla pauses and frowns into her lap. “I know sorry isn’t going to be enough to make up for lying to you for more than nine years. It’s just that- When I confessed my love to you I honestly thought I would never see you again. I thought you would be disgusted with me and run as far away from me as you could. You were supposed to.” 

Carmilla can see nothing but a watery blur through the tears she refuses to let go. “But you kissed me instead. I couldn’t believe it for the longest time. And by then we had already known each other for so long, I didn’t know how to bring it up. And if I did, I was _so_ afraid you would leave me. Or if you didn’t I was sure Maman would’ve found out somehow and I really don’t want to think about the punishment she would give me for telling you all this. But now… Now it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Who found out about us?” 

“Probably someone from _Völkischer Observator_. Maman had found out about an affair the chairman is having. I was there to collect evidence, but then I saw a drawer full of lists with Jewish people and the concentration camp they were sent to. I thought if I could just get a quick peek I might see Perry’s name there somewhere.”

“Did you?” Laura asks eagerly.

Carmilla looks back at her lap. “No. I only gave myself two minutes, it was too much of risk to be caught. Yet those two minutes have given me away and led them to me. To us.” 

“And to your Mother.”

Carmilla nods. “That’s why we have to break up, Laura. If this goes public our lives are in danger. They might take us, just like they took Perry.” 

“No. I refuse to just give up like that!” 

“Laura-” Carmilla sighs.

“I’m fucking mad at you, okay? I can’t believe you never told me. I know you always had grey morals, but blackmailing and breaking in and whatever else you did, sure brings it to another level,” Laura says heatedly, and then adds somewhat more calmly “But I also understand. Your mother used you like you were just another pawn in her game. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to fully trust you again, but I’ve known you for so long. I can’t give up on our relationship after this. Not yet. I want to give us another change.”

Carmilla closes her eyes and adds this to the infinite list of why she doesn’t deserve Laura. Not in a million years. 

“But it’s not just us, Laura. The world is going to know. We will-”

“We will deal with it,” Laura finishes her sentence firmly. 

Carmilla twists her fingers together. Laura’s determination is both inspiring and utterly reckless. 

“Carm?” 

She looks up. “Hm?”

Laura cups her hand around Carmilla’s neck and presses their forehead together. Determination shines in her eyes. “We are going to get through this.” 

\-- 

Carmilla stares at the ceiling of their bedroom. It’s past two o’clock, she knows because she just heard the bell tower ring. Laura fell asleep a long time ago, but Carmilla’s head is still spinning. If she doesn’t leave, their relationship will be exposed, but if she does leave Laura will never forgive her. 

_How can you say you love her when you haven’t even trusted her with your biggest secret? How do you know she will still love you when she finds out what you really do for me?_

Now Laura knows, and for the second time Carmilla wishes that Laura had just walked out on her. It would’ve made everything so much easier. She could go back to keeping everyone at a distance, where she wouldn’t hurt them. But she can’t, because she’s weak. And now she’s about to drag Laura down into the mess she has made.

She swallows and looks at Laura who is sleeping peacefully. Laura had fallen asleep next to her, but gradually shifted towards her part of the bed. Only their hands are still intertwined.

_We’re going to get through this._

Maman will find out. If she stays not only will she drag down Laura with her, but Mother as well, and everyone who works for her. They’ll all lose their jobs and Lord knows where that will leave them. She lets go off Laura’s hand and turns onto her other side. 

_I’ve always loved you, Carmilla._

Why would Maman say that? If two people in the entire world had the right to be completely and utterly disgusted with her it would be Laura and Maman. Yet they are exactly the two people who seem to love her the most. She doesn’t deserve it. And even though she wants nothing else but to be with Laura, she can’t let Laura take the hit for something _she_ caused. 

Quietly Carmilla stands up and takes the duffel bag she hadn’t unpacked yet. She changes quickly out of her pyjamas and into some decent clothes and throws the bag over her shoulder. When she looks towards the bed she can’t help but walk over to Laura. She softly plants a kiss on her forehead and doesn’t stop the tears from running down her face this time. 

As she walks towards the corridor she picks up the note Laura had thrown on the ground earlier. She flattens it out and lays it on the dining table. She feels around in the dark for a pencil, and scribbles something underneath her earlier message.

She takes one last lingering look at their apartment before she steps out into the quiet night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be weekly on Wednesday at 5:00pm EST. However we'll take a one week break and return on **April 8th**. For more updates please check the [Carmilla 30s AU](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) tag on Tumblr.


	9. Confusion and Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Laura faces the truth and Carmilla finds her way to an old friend.

Frankfurter Neue Zeitung - _Poland stays in denial_

LONDON, 20 Jul. 1939 - Polish marshal Rydz-Śmigły has had a visit from British general Ironside. In a special correspondence with News Chronicle he explained Poland has decided to fight for Danzig, even if they have to fight alone. If all other methods should fail to solve the Danzig problem and Germany occupies Poland, authorities will view this as a reason to start a war. 

Laura slams the alarm clock off and instinctively reaches over to Carmilla’s side of the bed. She sighs and opens her eyes when she realizes Carmilla isn’t in bed next to her. Typical. Carmilla probably had trouble falling asleep after her big revelation last night. 

In a single smooth motion she gets out of bed and rubs the sleep out of her eyes while she walks down the corridor. 

“So, are we today’s headline yet?” Laura asks half-jokingly through a yawn. 

When she opens her eyes she sees their living room is empty. Laura’s heart skips a beat and she immediately runs to the kitchen, but Carmilla isn’t there either.

“Carm?” she asks out loud in the apartment, but there is no response. 

Hastily she checks every room in their apartment only to come to the conclusion that her fear of waking up alone one morning without Carmilla is now a reality. Defeated she walks back to the living room and spots the Carmilla’s crumbled note on the dining table. She remembers coming home and reading that note, feeling her heart shatter. Not understanding why she would leave without explanation. At the bottom of the note she sees Carmilla has scrawled an addition.

_I can’t drag you down with me. You deserve better._

“NO!” Laura shouts almost choking on the word. She collapses into a chair and lets her sobs out. 

“How dare you, you fucking asshole!” she shouts and throws the note at the wall. She doesn’t want to see it. The words that have betrayed her. They were going to figure this out. _Together._ But if Carmilla thinks she can just run away from her problems, boy, had she misjudged Laura. She had to be hiding somewhere. She couldn’t be far. Maybe… Maybe she was at Perry’s. 

Laura surges to her feet and runs back to the bedroom to get some clothes. Maybe she should eat some breakfast before she leaves. She scoffs. Fuck breakfast. She has more important things to do. She zips up her pants and is almost certain none of what she has put on matches at all, but it’s not like anyone is going to care. Her girlfriend has left her. She should’ve known Carmilla would pull something as cowardly as that. Honestly, she should’ve tied her down. When it comes down to facing reality or running away from it, Carmilla would always chose the latter. Unlike Laura. 

She storms back into the living room and snatches the keys off the table. When she grabs for the doorknob she hesitates for a moment. If she is going to do this, she will definitely be late for work. She takes a deep gulp and opens the door. 

Fuck work, too. 

\-- 

Laura walks briskly the whole way to Perry’s apartment, adrenaline still rushing through her veins. She turns a final corner and finds herself on Perry’s street - her old street - and turns to walk the few meters to the building’s door. She pushes her way through the front door which, Laura remembers, never seemed to get locked. Without a second thought she runs upstairs, and knocks heavily on Perry’s door. 

“Stop hiding from me, you fucking coward!” she yells through the door and starts knocking again.

The door swings open and Laura takes startled a step back. In front of her stands neither Carmilla nor Perry. It’s a man in his pyjamas and a scruffy beard. 

“What do you want?” the man asks harshly. 

“W-where’s Perry?” Laura stutters.

“Where’s who now? I don’t know a Perry. You’ve got the wrong address. And may I ask who the fuck you are and why you act as if there is a criminal hiding in my apartment?”

“You don’t live here!” Laura says angrily. “This is Perry’s house. You can’t just steal her apartment!” 

“Excuse me? I pay rent like any other decent citizen. The renter before me didn’t pay for several months and all his stuff got taken away. The owner of this building now rents the apartment to me.” 

“You’re a liar! Mr. Wassenberg would never rent Perry’s apartment out to a guy like you,” Laura says accusingly, “I’ll find her myself.” 

She pushes past the startled man, into the apartment. Everything is different. All Perry’s furniture is gone. This is not the apartment Laura has known for so many years. 

“What the hell!?” the man stands frozen in confusion for a second, before striding after Laura, “Get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

“Where is she?” Laura says bitterly, still looking around the apartment in vain. 

The man grabs her by the arm and Laura turns her head, giving him her worst glare. “Let go off my arm!”

“Are you insane!? You’re in my _apartment!_ ” the man spits out and tries to push her back to the front door.

“This isn’t your apartment! It is Perry’s, you asshole! She lived here for over ten years and you just broke in and claimed it as your own after she went missing!” she tries to wrestle out of the man’s firm grip, but he’s too strong. 

He finally pushes Laura outside and he holds the door. “If this Perry-person was a troublemaker like you are I can see why she got arrested. I don’t know who the fuck you are but I swear if I see your psycho ass one more time I’m calling the police!”

He slams the door in her face, and it only serves to make Laura angrier. She pounds on the door and stomps with her foot, but the man doesn’t respond anymore.

“Go fuck yourself, sir!” 

Laura lets out a groan and figures it’s no use. Her eyes wander to the small plaque next to the door, which has the name _Hesselbrecht_ on it. She takes a deep breath and comes to her senses, realises that she is standing on a stranger’s doorstep. Perry is gone and so is Carmilla. 

Her heart sinks in her chest. _What the hell was she going to do? What’s wrong with her? You can’t just push your way into someone else’s apartment!_ She curses at herself and turns around, seeing the door of her old apartment. It’s strange to think someone else lives there now, even though it was hers once. It’s possible she will have to to leave their- Carm… Carmilla’s apartment as well. She can’t afford it on her own. 

“This place is depressing,” she mumbles to herself and heads back outside.

Without the rush of anger filling her ears, the street seems far too quiet. Her heart is racing and she is almost panting from how quickly she is walking, so she slows down. Quietly she walks past door after closed door and thinks that it was only a few years ago that a street like this would have been far brighter. Why does the world has to keep changing?

She walks back to the apartment, uses her key to let herself in and then leans against the closed door. With Carmilla gone the apartment feels too big, too empty. She suddenly understands why Carmilla wanted her to move in all those years ago. It’s like being a little goldfish swimming in an ocean. She sniffles and walks listlessly through the house to the study. She isn’t quite sure what is happening. Why it’s happening. Why is Perry still missing? Why did Carmilla leave even though she had forgiven her. Where are they now? Will she ever see them again? 

She sits down behind the desk and lets her fingers rest on the typewriter. She should be at work now, she should be writing an article. Instead she writes a message to herself.

Accept the fact that you don’t understand the world. You cannot change it. 

L’Observateur de Paris - _Danzig can count on itself_

DANZIG, 24 Jul. 1939 - In a speech this saturday Gauleiter Forster spoke to 4000 workmen in Schichau’s shipyard. He openly confessed Danzig has made military preparations, even though this has been denied several times before. It’s no longer necessary to count on the German army and so now the Danzig people are free to get ready to fight for their own. He also added that a shift towards the Polish border is now impossible. Forster finished his speech by saying: ‘We have the right to get our stolen areas back, and we shall do so’.

LaF already sent Margot to her quarters several hours ago, and yet they are still awake and fully dressed, lounging in the library. Through the windows, the night is pitch back, only a tiny sliver of moon in the sky , and inside the house the warmth of the fire and the soft, low lighting curled around LaF. Sitting in the library like this at night always made them feel safe. 

Plus, being surrounded by books was never a downside. LaF is currently reading some exciting new work from Otto Hanh. That kind of modern scientific discovery was fascinating to LaF, something that they always tried to keep up to date with. JP often laughed at them for their enthusiasm, but only ever kindly. JP only ever laughs at LaF kindly, it’s one of his best qualities. 

LaF is interrupted from their thoughts by the sharp noise of the doorbell, cutting through the house and startling them into dropping their book. Walking towards the front door. 

A lost friend standing on the doorstep. 

"How you doing, Doc?" she says, trying for a cheeky grin.

LaFontaine’s eyes widen. “Carmilla?”

They take a step out into the warm night to study her more closely. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d drop by,” Carmilla says, avoiding eye contact.

LaF raises their eyebrows, she wouldn’t have travelled this far from home just to visit. But they try to keep it light for Carmilla’s sake. “I’ve heard better excuses from you, Karnstein. Come in.” 

Carmilla sighs slightly, like she had been holding her breath in anticipation of LaF’s words, and follows them into the house. She lets her eyes wander around the hallway. 

“I always forget how big it is in here.” 

LaF smiles. “So you’re here because you’re tired of your small apartment in the big city, huh?” 

Carmilla’s smile disappears. “Yeah, something like that,” she mumbles. 

Okay, maybe they shouldn’t keep it _that_ light. 

“Man of the house not at home?” Carmilla says, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. LaF lets her. 

“No. He is on duty right now.”

They give Carmilla a good look and notice how tired she looks. That cannot just be from her long travel. Something happened. It actually reminds them a lot of that evening Carmilla stood at their doorstep years ago after- 

Something in LaF’s mind clicks. “Shall we go to the lounge? I think we could treat ourselves to a drink, right?”

Carmilla nods. “Good idea.” 

They open up the door to the lounge and tell Carmilla to sit wherever she likes. While they get some beverage and glasses, Carmilla sits down on the couch, her posture unusually stiff. LaF plops down in the chair next to her and pours out the liquor, giving her a friendly smile. 

“So, what’s really going on Carmilla?” They ask as they hand over her drink. 

“Oh y’know… I fucked up again,” she sighs and knocks the contents of her glass back in one gulp. 

LaF stares at her. “Like another scandal?”

She shakes her head. “Well, maybe. I’m not sure what you should call it. It wasn’t an affair this time. But they found out about me and Laura. Trying to use it against Maman.” 

“That’s not your fault though.” 

Carmilla pours out another drink and shrugs. “I screwed up, when I was doing a little reconnaissance for Mother. Let a personal matter into business. Should’ve known better than to start a homosexual relationship in the first place, right?” 

LaF quickly takes a sip, because they have no idea how to answer that. 

“It’s over now anyway. I left her so I won’t drag her down the shithole that is my life,” Carmilla says, sinking back into the couch. 

“I’m guessing that’s why you’re here.” 

She nods. “You’re the only one besides Maman that knows the entire story.” 

Hesitantly she looks at them and adds with a soft voice. “And you helped me a lot first time around.” 

LaFontaine smiles shyly, remembering a panicked Carmilla, standing on their doorstep unannounced. They had known each other for almost a year, and Carmilla trusted them enough with something she felt deeply ashamed of. Last time, it took a while before she was confident enough to return to Germany. 

“So am I the place to go whenever you have girl trouble?” they say with a smirk.

Carmilla rolls her eyes. “Very funny.” 

“Seriously though, you’re welcome to stay here.” 

The tired look on her face doesn’t change, but LaF knows Carmilla is grateful when she says, “Thanks, Doc.”

They let the silence sink in between them. LaF doesn’t want to ask too many questions right now, that will come in time. Carmilla probably needs time to process what has happened in the first place. It’s not an easy decision to leave the one you love the most behind. They know how much she loves Laura, they’ve noticed it in the way she described her in their letters. Even though it was always encrypted as her “roommate” in case the Nazis read them. But LaF can see it even more in the way she is sitting on the couch right now, completely defeated, the languid grace that LaF has always associated with Carmilla seemingly gone. 

The loud sound of the clock announcing it’s one o’clock pulls them out of their thoughts. Carmilla seems to snapped out of her own thoughts as well. As she looks at them she tries her best to work up a smile. “So how are you doing?” 

“Good, actually,” LaF replies. “I’ve been working, and JP is out a lot in the field. I had a difficult patient a while ago, but he’s recovering now. It’s fine really. Business as usual.” 

“That’s great. Although I have to say I would’ve expected adorable little Armitages crawling all over the floor by now.”

LaF lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’t think JP has even the slightest idea where babies come from.”

“You’re kidding right?”

They shake their head. “He has never shown any interest in it. Which I don’t really mind to be honest with you.”

Carmilla examines LaF for a second and carefully asks. “Do you love him, Doc?”

“JP is the best husband I could ever ask for.”

She nods. “Yes, I know. But do you love him?” 

LaFontaine pauses for a moment. 

“I do love him” they say. They take a gulp from their drink and look at Carmilla. LaF forces a smile, which they realize, probably makes them look even sadder. “Just not in the same way he loves me.”

Carmilla turns to take a sip of her own drink, seeming to measure her words before she replies. LaF quickly drinks the remaining bit of their drink and puts the glass on the table. 

“You must be tired from your long travel. Maybe it’s better to get some sleep,” they say, before Carmilla has a chance to speak.

Carmilla nods and finishes her drink. 

“I’ll show you your room,” LaF says with a gesture to follow them and they head out the room. “It’s too late to wake up Margot to make one of the guest rooms ready so you can sleep in my room tonight. Since JP isn’t home, I’ll sleep in his.” 

Carmilla follows them onto the stairs towards the first floor and asks, “I know this is none of my business, but don’t you sleep in the same room?”

“Not anymore. Jean-Pierre has recurring nightmares.”

“Old memories?” Carmilla asks, and LaF wonders why her words sound so heavy.

“Yes. It started after the war,” LaF turns to her. “He has seen things we can’t even begin to imagine. His wish was that at least one of us get a good night of sleep.”

LaFontaine sighs. “Little does he know I actually sleep less since I’m not by his side to comfort him.” 

They open the door and switch on the light. “The door there leads to my private bathroom. You can use it if you’d like. I don’t mind.” 

Carmilla nods, too tired to properly thank them, but LaF can see the gratitude in her eyes. 

“Get some rest,” LaF tells her. “I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

\--

Carmilla sighs as she stares at the ceiling. She has no idea how much time has passed, but through the curtains the sun seems to be rising. Everything feels unfamiliar. The room, the bed sheets, even the smell is different. She has been travelling for several days and this is the first time she’s actually hit with the reality of it all. She left Laura. She had too. It was either this or be publicly exposed and probably persecuted. She wouldn’t mind if it was just her, but to drag Laura down with her? No way. No, this is the best decision. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like someone ripped her heart out. The hard reality is, she’s never going to see Laura again. 

She takes a shaky breath and feels the tears pricking in her eyes. Somehow, who knows how, she has to start over her life. Find a new place of her own and just forget about it all. But how could she possibly forget about Laura? She has been Carmilla’s world for so long. 

She feels empty. Purposeless. Without Laura in her life to keep her laughing, and her mother to give her work to do, she feels completely alone. What is she going to do now? She has no marketable skills or experience. And really, in her entire life, what has she done? Fallen in love and had her heart broken twice and followed her mother around doing her dirty work. Not that life is enthralling in general, but that's pathetic even by her standards. 

For a fleeting moment, Carmilla wishes she was a man, so she could enlist to fight in the war that seems to be brewing. At least that would give her some sort of purpose. Only she doesn’t want to fight for her so-called country, run by a man who is locking people away and killing them for simply being who they are. He would have her killed simply for loving the person that she loves. Because she still does love Laura, she probably always will. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. 

“Miss Karnstein?” a very feminine voice asks, without opening the door.

That must be Margot, Carmilla thinks. 

“I hope I didn’t wake you. Doctor LaFontaine asks if you would like to join them for breakfast,” Margot continues after hearing no response.

Carmilla sighs. It’s morning already, she hasn’t managed to sleep at all. Maybe it’s best to just get up and try to face the day.

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

\--

LaFontaine turns on their brightest smile when Carmilla walks into the room. 

“Morning Carmilla.”

“Hey,” Carmilla says, in a voice that is obviously trying to be upbeat and is failing miserably. 

She seems even less talkative than last night, that can’t be good. 

“Did you sleep well?” LaF asks awkwardly, trying to keep the conversation going. 

Carmilla shakes her head. “I couldn’t fall asleep,” she says as she starts making breakfast. 

They watch as Carmilla serves herself breakfast. LaF is pretty sure she doesn’t even know what she is putting on her baguette. When she finishes spreading it with jam and puts some cheese on it, she sets it down on her plate and stares at it, completely lost in thought.

“Okay, I didn’t want to say this last night, but Carmilla, you’re an honest to God wreck right now,” LaF blurts out. 

“I’ve… I’ve never felt worse,” Carmilla mumbles and looks up to meet their eyes. “It feels like someone ripped my fucking heart out of my chest. And there is this empty void of just….I don’t even know. But once in a while I forget about it and it feels slightly better. At which point I remember that I will never see-”

She chokes on the words and lets her knife fall from her hand. She buries her face in her hands and lets out what sounds like a sob. “I’m never going to see her again, Doc.”

LaFontaine startles at that, before rushing over to Carmilla’s side of the table. They sit next to her and awkwardly lay a hand on her shoulder. The two of them have never been the hugging-type. 

“I-it was the right choice. I know. But s-she made me so incredibly happy. I was so fucking _happy_ for almost a decade. And now it’s all gone.” 

“I know. I know,” LaF tries, but nothing they can say seems right. “But she will understand you had to. She will understand it was the only way to protect her.” 

“It better protect her,” Carmilla says bitterly. “Because I feel like the most pathetic human being alive.” 

“You made an incredibly difficult choice, Carmilla. Don’t beat yourself up for feeling something.” 

“No, Doc. Okay? I fucked up,” Carmilla says. “She’s never going to forgive me for what I did.”

“You said she was the one who initiated a second chance, right?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Carmilla says. “And you know how I responded? I ran away. _That’s_ the betrayal she isn’t going to forgive me for.” 

LaFontaine brings down their hand again and stares at Carmilla as she wipes away her tears.

“I know you’re trying to help me, Doc,” she says breaking the silence. “Please know, I am incredibly grateful to you for letting me stay here even though you don’t have to. But I… I can’t talk about it. It hurts too much.”

LaFontaine nods sadly. “Of course, whatever you need,” they say as they scoot back to their own seat. 

They glance over at Carmilla and LaF wonders if they’ve ever seen her so fragile. It’s no use to push her, but it can’t be all doomed just yet, right? Maybe Laura would understand how much Carmilla cares about her if she just saw her right now. The idea that pops into their head might be the stupidest idea they’ve had all year, but it is worth at least the shot. 

\--

In the afternoon LaFontaine locks themself in their study and starts to write. They crumple at least ten different pages before the letter finally feels right. LaF writes the address on the envelope and seals it. They know the address by heart, although the name is different than usual. They only hope their German is decent enough for Laura to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, you can watch the video about 30s AU made by Fem [here](https://youtu.be/qnSkho9iPg0).


	10. Conversations and Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which love will have its sacrifices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** Misgendering

Völkischer Observator - _Poland no respect for boundaries_

BERLIN 25 Aug. 1939 - The danger of Poland threatens us. We know the Polish government is bluffing. Warsaw doesn’t have it’s own country in control anymore and the troops standing at the borderline near Danzig want to invade the country on their own. As a nation, we must stand together now more than ever. Every hour now our military is gathering in Berlin, waiting for the official sign. The artillery and the air force are ready, all for the Wehrmacht. Meanwhile the marine ship Schleswig-Holstein has set sail towards the Free City of Danzig for a ceremony. The ship is of historical importance as it’s one of the six war ships the Treaty of Versailles let the German government keep. Though we cannot speculate the purpose of the ceremony, Danzig is decorated festively. 

The metallic sound of tapping typewriters fills the hollow office. The latest news being hastily written down before the deadline. Everybody is working, except for Laura, who has been staring at a blank page ever since she sat down. Lately it seems like she can’t focus on anything, work especially. She’d hoped that Carmilla would be back by now, ready to apologize for what she had done, and admit that it was a mistake. She hadn’t. 

The only news Laura had received was a letter last week from a Doctor LaFontaine in Péronne. It was written in pretty bad German telling that “Her doctor would like to see Ms. Hollis for her yearly medical check-up”. There was an address enclosed as well. It had taken Laura several readings before she realized what was going on, and that was only because she had remembered Carmilla referring to a friend who was a doctor in France. The letter couldn’t be too obvious, because that would raise suspicion, and she knows that the Nazis do check letters. She’s pretty sure that’s where Carmilla is hiding. But it’s ridiculous to think that _she_ has to go to _Carmilla_ , when she’s the one who is the problem, not Laura. 

“Laura, can I speak with you in my office?”

The firm voice of Mr. Spindler from directly behind her makes her jump to her feet. She quickly nods and follows him into his office. When the head of the department wants to speak to you in private it usually isn’t a good sign. At least not with Mr. Spindler. 

He tells her to take a seat and, as he sits down behind his desk, Laura wonders why Mr. Spindler has asked her to come in here. Did Ms. Morgan tell him about her relationship with Carmilla? Her stomach tightens unpleasantly. Maybe she’s ordered him to fire Laura. 

“So I was just talking to-”

“Did Ms. Morgan say something about me?” Laura asks, panic leaking into her voice. 

Mr. Spindler gives her a confused look. “I was going to say our editor in chief.” He pauses for a second. “Why- Why would Ms. Morgan want to talk about you?” 

Laura feels her face flush red as she realizes her secret is still safe. “I- I just… I had a dream last night where Ms. Morgan fired me.” 

It’s a blatant lie, but Mr. Spindler gives her a smile and relief washes over her. 

“As I was saying,” he continues, as though she hadn’t interrupted him, “I was talking to our editor in chief just now and he and I both have noticed the quality of your work has dropped dramatically in the past few weeks.”

The relief from just a few seconds ago disappears entirely and Laura feels the weight of defeat settle onto her shoulders. 

“Your articles have been pretty short, and to be completely honest with you, very sloppy. You’ve been working for me for a long time now Laura, and I know you’re a lot better than this. I’ve seen how passionate you are about journalism. But if you’re no longer willing to give it your all, there are lots of people who would love to have your job.”

Laura nods. “I-I know my work has recently been pretty bad. It’s- it’s just that” she sighs. “There has been a lot going on in my personal life and I keep getting distracted.” 

“You know I do not like to be involved in personal matters, but since this affects your work, I have to ask what happened."

Laura swallows. "My roommate is missing." 

She realizes the words sound too broken, too fragile for someone who is supposedly only missing their roommate. Carmilla was much more, but she can’t say that. “We were pretty close. She was my best friend, even,” she adds helplessly. 

There is a brief silence that seems to stretch endlessly. This is as close as Laura will ever get to telling someone the actual truth. 

"A lot of people disappear overnight nowadays," Mr. Spindler says, his voice ever so slightly softer than usual. "Was she a Jew?"

Laura shakes her head. "Not as far as I can recall."

Who knows what Carmilla lied about. 

"Well, people have lots of secrets." 

And Laura was one of them. 

“I understand if you’re upset, but if you can’t keep your personal affairs in order long enough to get your work done, there will be consequences.” 

Laura nods. “I understand, Mr. Spindler. I’ll do my best to work on that.” 

“That’s good. You can go back to writing your article now,” Mr. Spindler says. 

Laura leaves his office, feeling even worse than before. She feels like screaming, right here in the middle of the office. Nobody has even the slightest idea what she is going through and she has to keep her head up as if nothing is happening. Perry has been missing since November, and she has absolutely no idea where she is. _If_ she is even alive. Carmilla left her overnight to hide somewhere in France. And now she is here, alone in stupid Frankfurt with nobody to turn to. Even her dad wouldn’t understand, since she can’t tell him the truth. She can’t tell anyone the truth. She has been hiding so much of her life, it’s now swallowing her. But she can’t break down now. Not here. She can’t lose her job too in all this mess. It’s the only thing left in her life that is keeping her going.

For the use of Mr. Pascal - 25 Aug. 1939

This note certifies the administration of a Vitamin C serum once a day with the morning meal to Mr. Pascal. The dose should not exceed 30 cubic centimeters. Signed, Doctor LaFontaine. 

LaFontaine scribbles their signature at the bottom of the prescription and puts it on the pile of notes they’ve written so far. They’re working at a really great pace today. They start flipping through their notes on their next patient when there is a knock on the door. 

“My love, may I come in?”

LaFontaine looks up from their work. “JP?” 

They check the clock and realize they’ve been so absorbed in their work that they totally missed Jean-Pierre arriving back from duty. “Come in! I forgot the time.”

They can hear him laughing as he steps through the door. “I’m not surprised, this isn’t the first time you’ve forgotten all about me.” 

Jean-Pierre crosses the room as LaF stands up and he kisses their cheek. He’s smiling, but LaF doesn’t miss how tired his eyes seem. 

“How was work?” 

“Stressful, really,” JP says. “Chances are I will be home even less often in the upcoming weeks. The things that are happening with Germany- it’s really something.” 

He gives them a smile. “So, how have you been?” 

“Good. I’ve been pretty busy with work as usual, but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Really?” Jean-Pierre says. “Because the most curious thing just happened. I was walking down the hall when this woman I have not yet been acquainted with just walked out of our kitchen. That seems pretty unordinary to me.” 

“Oh, right, Carmilla! I’m so sorry, Jean-Pierre I should’ve told you,” LaF apologies. “She’s been staying with me, because she had some trouble back home.” 

“Hmhm, right,” Jean-Pierre says, still frowning slightly. “So this girl, is your friend Carmilla. Carmilla Karnstein, daughter of Lilita Morgan. The friend you mentioned with the scandal, which you do not want to tell me about.” 

LaF takes a step back in surprise at the sudden aggressive undertone to Jean Pierre’s words. “JP, it’s okay. She’s my friend.” 

JP doesn’t seem convinced by their words so LaF adds, “I wish you’d just trust me on this matter,” suddenly offended by his apparent distrust. 

“I wish _you_ would realise I’m feeling pretty offended that you don’t trust me to keep a secret. You know I am a man of my word. I believe you when you say it’s none of my business, but right now Miss. Karnstein is in _our_ house, and I would like to know what’s going on, because for all _I_ know, a criminal is eating pudding out of our fridge, feeling perfectly content with how her life is going, since her good friend is letting her stay in their home.” 

LaFontaine sighs. “She’s not a criminal, Jean-Pierre. She had to leave her girlfriend, because some people found out about the relationship. They tried to blackmail her mother with the information and to protect not only her girlfriend, but her mother and everybody that works for her, she has left the country.” 

“ _Girlfriend?_ You mean she’s a homosexual?”

“For crying out loud, JP, what is with all the judgement today?” LaFontaine scoffs. “I hope you’re just tired from your travel, because this is ridiculous. Yes, she is a homosexual. So what? Seriously, you sound like my judgemental mother right now. Where’s the husband who supported me through all my identity struggles?” 

That seems to shut him up.

“I-I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just that I know that the scandal-”

“That _scandal_ was just another girlfriend who betrayed her. She may have done some shady things, but that’s only because her foster mother is a manipulative monster who controls her every move. My mother is a cuddly sweetheart compared to hers,” they say in a heated voice. “And I’m not going to apologize for helping my friend, who right now, is extremely heartbroken because she had to leave her girlfriend behind, who she has loved deeply for over nine years.” 

“LaFontaine, I know you mean well, but you cannot help everyone.”

They scoff. “That’s rich coming from you.” 

“You’re right. As always, you are right,” JP sighs. “I want to apologize for my behavior, I am indeed very stressed out from my work.” 

LaF nods. “I understand.” 

“So,” Jean-Pierre says. “What’s the plan? I don’t assume she’s going to live with us now, is she?”

“No, she is staying temporarily. I sent a letter to her girlfriend, Laura, but I haven’t heard back from her. I hope the letter got through.”

“You sent our address to someone in Germany? You know how dangerous that is!” 

"Did you want me to travel back and forth to Frankfurt? It's not exactly around the corner, Jean-Pierre!"

They let out a slow breath to calm down. "Besides, it's Laura's choice to come or not. I shouldn't force her by visiting." 

“Well, you have clearly given it some thought,” JP sighs, giving in. “Fine. She can stay for a bit longer. But in the meantime, at least make sure your friend is useful and doesn’t sit around all day.”

A Night of Music

Frankfurt’s Scheinbar presents an evening of live music, featuring Felix Brandt, Ernst Hauer and OTTO FASHINGBAUER. 19:00 -- 25 Aug. 1939 

Laura sighs and tosses the letter aside for the dozenth time. No matter how many times she reads the words that Carmilla’s doctor-friend wrote to her, her head just keeps spinning. She’s still so angry at Carmilla, and yet she keeps having moments where she forgets that she is even gone, and turns to share a joke or just a look with a person who is no longer constantly by her side. Every time she slips up, it hurts just as bad as it did the moment she realised Carmilla was gone for good. 

It isn’t doing her any good, thinking in circles like this. Re-reading the same disguised words over and over, and trying to figure out what she feels about it all. She needs a break, maybe some fresh air. No, what she really needs is a drink. Laura pushes herself up out of the chair she was sitting on, and nods decisively to herself. A drink is exactly what she needs.

It only takes her a few minutes to shrug on her jacket and shove her keys in her pocket, and then she is out on the street and she turns to start walking towards nowhere in particular. 

It is only after she has been walking for several blocks that she realises she does have a destination in mind after all. Her feet have lead her in the direction of the bar where she met Carmilla for the first time, nearly a decade ago. Her recollection of the bar is hazy at best, an impression of smoke-filled air, and the sharp cut of Carmilla’s bangs casting a shadow over her eyes. In the decade since that night, Laura has never been back, but she supposes that now is as good a time as any.

She keeps walking, suddenly nervous now that she has a destination in mind. She wonders if she will recognise the bar at all, or if it will be completely changed. Her unspoken question is answered when she turns a corner onto the street where she remembers the bar being, and then stops short at what she sees.

The front of the bar is in disrepair. The paint is peeling away from the wood, and several windows appear to have been broken. Laura walks a little closer and realises there is a notice on the door of the building, stating that the bar has shut down indefinitely. 

Laura wonders absently what happened to the people who owned the bar, the ones who worked there. Even the tired regulars, used to sitting in their own spot at the bar and served their drink without needing to ask. Just one bar of many, but it had meant something to someone. It had meant something to Laura. 

She turns away from the grimy shopfront, and casts her eyes about for a distraction. Most of the buildings on the street are fairly grimy, but her attention is captured by a bright splash of colour only a few meters down the street. She strolls over and plucks a brightly coloured sheet of paper from the wall of a building, and realises it is advertising some kind of event in the building, which just happens to be a bar. 

Well, it might not be exactly what she had been searching for, but it will surely serve alcohol, which is what she had really left the apartment for in the first place. She shrugs to herself, and pushes through the door into the bar. 

The first thing Laura notices, is that it is much nicer than the bar she and Carmilla had first met at. No dingy corners or scratched wooden stools, and the scent of smoke on the air is light. She walks over and seats herself at the bar, and waits patiently for a bartender to come and take her order. She isn’t in any particular hurry.

While she waits, she lets her mind wander back to the letter she received from a Doctor LaFontaine, the French friend Carmilla had always been exchanging letters from. When Laura had finally understood what the letter really meant, she had reacted in shock. It was surreal to know exactly where Carmilla was, after being so sure she had lost her forever.

And ever since the letter had arrived, she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of seeing Carmilla again. The things she couldn’t figure out was if she wanted to see Carmilla so she could kiss her or slap her. Possibly both, Laura thinks.

The bartender finally sets her drink down in front of her, and Laura takes a sip. Maybe it doesn’t matter why she wants to see Carmilla, maybe all that matters is that she does. Maybe she just needs some closure. Maybe she needs to tell Carmilla how absolutely furious she is at her, for just leaving her like that.

She takes another sip from her glass, and scoffs at the irony. Whiskey when they met and whiskey when she left. 

Laura drinks the rest of the drink in one go and sets the empty glass on the bar. 

She takes a deep breath.

"Fuck it," she says and stands up to go pack her bags.

La Société - _Still tension since Aubin-Poirier case_

31 Aug. 1939 - The arrest and trial of M.M. Aubin and Poirier has led to rising tension within our country and most specifically the French media. Aubin, who was head of the messaging service for the evening paper “Le Temps”, and Poirier who had high influence in the publicity of morning paper “Le Figaro”, have been imprisoned for blackmailing, treason and spying. Most notable amongst the charges was that they hired an “agent” who paid them money. In exchange, they would extradite military secrets of the French army and provide propaganda in favor of the Third Reich and its political objectives. They also supplied resources needed for the Third Reich to influence the French people. Even though both Aubin and Poirier have been under arrest since July 12 and are currently imprisoned, this news has caused doubt amongst us, the average French citizen. We do not know which of our national secrets have been spilled. If we cannot trust our own people anymore, how can we possibly stand together in this dangerous period of time? 

“Good morning, my love,” JP greets LaF with a smile as they walk into the breakfast room. LaF smiles back, but can’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. They seem to be a permanent fixture on his face these days.

“Good morning,” LaF says, and sits down at the table. They start making their breakfast, while JP folds up his newspaper across the table from them. 

“Before I forget,” JP says, “This afternoon I will be enjoying the company of some other lieutenant-generals. We can talk in the library, so we don’t disturb you in the study, if that suits?”

LaF just shrugs. “That works fine for me. What’s so urgent that they can’t wait until you are back in the field, though?” 

JP’s expression turns stormy for a brief moment, like LaF’s words have reminded him of something unpleasant. His face is carefully neutral again when he speaks. “I’m not really sure, to be honest,” he says. 

LaF nods in reply, having read the papers they know what JP is afraid of. They eat in silence until JP excuses himself. They have work to do too, and a houseguest to check on.

\--

The doorbell rings and JP rushes towards the front door. He opens it, ready to greet his fellow lieutenant-general, but he is caught by surprise when instead he sees an unfamiliar woman. 

"Hello. Can I help you with something, ma'am?" 

The woman gives him a confused look and mutters something in a language that sounds like German.

"Do you speak French?" 

The woman looks even more confused than she did before, and JP realises she has a large suitcase sitting at her feet. She is probably a tourist who has confused their house with a hostel. But how is he possibly going to communicate that towards her, when she doesn't speak a word French?

When neither of them speaks she rummages through her suitcase and hands him a crumpled note. It's written in German so he isn't sure what it says, but he recognizes LaFontaine's handwriting immediately. It's even their signature so there's no way she had found this by accident. Wait, could this be?

"One moment please!" He says and gestures that she has to hold up for a second. When she nods as a sign of understatement he quickly walks to LaF's study and knocks on their door. 

"My love?" 

"What is it, JP?"

"I think the girlfriend of Miss. Karnstein is here." 

Immediately the door swings open and Jean-Pierre hands them the note. 

"That's the note I sent!" They say, slightly enthusiastic that their plan actually worked. "Where is she?"

"At the front door." 

LaF rushes down the hall to the door and sees the woman that's possibly Laura. 

"Are you Laura?" 

She still looks confused, clearly not understanding the language.

They point at her. "Laura?"

She nods, with a sigh of relief that she's finally been understood. She points at the house. "Carmilla?"

"Yes! Yes!" LaF says enthusiastically and nods to make it more clear. They gesture at her to follow them inside.

\--

Laura follows their lead upstairs to the guest bedroom and before LaFontaine opens the door they say something she doesn’t understand. She hears Carmilla respond, but her voice sounds different in French. 

LaF gives Laura an encouraging smile before gesturing to the door. Laura nods and LaF walks back downstairs, giving them their privacy. She takes a deep breath before opening the door. 

Carmilla, laying on her bed reading a book, looks up and her eyes grow wide. She puts the book aside and sits up.

“L-Laura?” she stammers in disbelief. 

It takes every inch of Laura not to break down in this moment, and throw herself into Carmilla’s arms. She can’t believe how much she has missed her, and it hurts even more to think what Carmilla did to her. 

“How are you here?” she asks, when Laura seems frozen. 

“LaFontaine sent me a message,” she manages to get out. Her throat feels oddly tight.

Laura turns around to close the door and shuts her eyes for a moment, giving herself a moment to take a deep breath. She didn’t come all this way to immediately forgive Carmilla. She turns back around and looks her fiercely in the eyes.

“How dare you?” Laura’s voice shakes, but her anger dominates her tone. “How _dare_ you leave me like that?”

“Laura-”

“No, shut up!” she cuts Carmilla off. “You’re going to listen to _me_ this time.” 

Carmilla seems clearly startled, but she gives a slight nod. 

“First you lie to me and then you just leave me overnight? Without second thought? Without any mention of where you are going? Who the fuck does that?” Laura says in a heated voice and starts to pace across the small room. “It was like I was never a part of your life to begin with! Like I was just this replaceable girl to whom you could just lie to and ran away from as soon as things got too messy for you!”

“That’s not true,” Carmilla says softly and then pauses before saying, “You’re the most important part of my life.”

Laura turns towards Carmilla and sees that tears are running down her face. It throws her off-guard, because she knows she means it. And it’s not really helping her to see Carmilla so broken, when she had this entire rant planned. 

“Well, in that case you should’ve shown that. Because I’m gonna say right here and right now that you made the wrong choice, Carmilla Karnstein. When you’re in a committed relationship for over six years I expect to be involved in major life changes. You don’t pull this crap on me. _Ever_. I don’t care how scared you are of your mother. If you had asked me to flee with you, _I would_.” 

“How could I have possibly asked that of you?” Carmilla shakes her head. “I-I can’t expect you to turn your entire life upside down for me.” 

“Well, for starters, you could’ve _asked_ ,” Laura says. “You know, _communicating_. Like we’re doing right now. Which seems to be something of an ongoing struggle for you. But that’s okay, because at least we’re talking now. I’m finally seeing the real Carmilla Karnstein.” 

“Did you come all this way to lecture me?” Carmilla says, her voice bitter. “Why bother? It’s not as if I didn’t hate myself before.” 

Laura swallows, because this is way harder than she imagined it would be. But she can’t forgive Carmilla just yet. 

“You broke my heart, Carm,” she says as tears form in her eyes. “I thought I knew you. I thought we would spend our lives together. But after you left me, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I even harassed a man in his own house, because I didn’t want to believe you were gone, just like I don’t want to believe Perry is gone. I can’t do anything about Perry. I realize that now. But I can do something about us. Even if it means going separate ways. I just want to-” 

She pushes her hand through her hair. “I just wanted to be able to let go of you, Carmilla.” 

Carmilla turns her eyes towards the ground. 

“Yet here I stand,” Laura says, gesturing to herself. “In a stranger’s mansion somewhere in fucking _France_ , because I love you. I just can’t seem to let go of you. And I hate it. I hate that I love you and I hate what you did to me, and I hate myself for loving an asshole like you.” 

Laura shakes her head and lets the tears run down her face. “I still love you… I always have.”

She sits down on the room’s only chair in defeat, and there is no anger left in her voice when she says, “When are you going to show me that you love me back, Carmilla? Or did I come all this way for nothing?”

“No, please don’t go,” Carmilla immediately looks up, her voice fragile. “I want to fix things between us, Laura.”

\--

The doorbell rings again and this time one of the lieutenant-generals stands at the front door. 

“Mr. Deniaud, so glad you could make it,” Jean-Pierre says as he shakes his hand. “You’ve met my partner LaFontaine, right lieutenant?” 

The man nods and shakes their hand. “LaFontaine? Isn’t that your maiden’s name?” 

“You’re speaking to a doctor,” JP cuts in before LaF can say anything and smiles at them as he says, “You’ve got to show some respect.” 

“Of course! My apologies, Mrs. LaFontaine,” the man says with a smile. 

JP wants to intervene again, but LaF squeezes his hand softly and gives him a look telling him he doesn’t have to go through all the trouble. They’re used to it.

Jean-Pierre gives them a sad smile, and turns back to Mr. Deniaud, “I will show you to our library. The other lieutenant-generals should join us shortly.” 

\--

Laura stands cautiously from where she was sitting and crosses the room slowly to sit next to Carmilla, who is perched on the side of her bed. Carmilla’s words have softened the atmosphere of the room, and seemingly dissipated the last of Laura’s anger along with it. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to flee with you?”

“Because I can’t drag you down with _my_ faults,” Carmilla says and lets the words hit Laura before adding, “And because the last time I suggested that, I got slapped in the face.” 

“By a different girl,” Laura says. “I’m not Ell.” 

“I know. Maman got inside my head. It was an impulsive decision I immediately regretted, but I couldn’t go back. Not after what I did to you.” 

“Okay, so what do we do now?”

“What do we do-” Carmilla repeats her mumbling and snorts. “Laura, why haven’t you left me by now? Seriously. Why do you keep giving me chances that I don’t deserve?”

“Because you’ll always try to run, Carmilla. And I’m not tired of running after you yet. I know you don’t always show it, but I can tell how much you care. Our love is still worth fighting for. And you know I will not go down without a fight.” 

Carmilla looks at her with a smile. “You really mean that?”

“Yes,” Laura says and returns the smile. “It’s going to be difficult for sure, but we are going to get through this.”

“This is all great Laura, really, but we’re at the same point as we were before I ran away. This time we’re not even in Frankfurt.”

“So we’re going to have to take your mother down.”

“Take down? Are you going to attack her in the name of love?” Carmilla says, not even trying to hide the smile on her face.

“Sometimes a girl has got to manufacture her own excitement, y’know? I’m a journalist after all,” Laura says with a smile, and grabs Carmilla’s hands. Determination twinkles in her eyes. “We’re going to show the world how dirty your mother really is.” 

\--

“If Germany invades Poland that means both France and England will be forced to keep their promises to Poland, meaning there will be another war,” Jean-Pierre says. 

“It’s no longer a matter of _if_ , sir, it’s a matter of _when_ ,” the lieutenant-general responds. 

JP looks up at him. “Do you have legitimately sources to back this up? Is Germany going to push through?” 

There is silence amongst the group of men. They all know the answer, but nobody wants to say it out loud. 

“That which has been dreaded and discussed by the news for months will come true, sir,” one of the lieutenants finally speaks up. “We are going to be at war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be weekly on Wednesday at 5:00pm EST. For updates please check the [Carmilla 30s AU](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) tag on tumblr.


	11. Decisions and Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Germany invades Poland, starting World War II. Meanwhile, Laura and Carmilla have to make a difficult decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings** : Mentions of PTSD.

L’Observateur de Paris - _Germany invades Poland!_

1 Sep. 1939 - Several Polish cities have been bombed as of this morning by the German Wehrmacht. One such bombing occurred at the Westerplatte peninsula, which was bombed by the warship Schleswig-Holstein. The ship was originally sent to Danzig for a ceremony, to celebrate Danzig’s annexation to Germany that has been approved as of today. Führer Adolf Hitler has stated that since the Polish government didn’t want to negotiate for peace there is no other way than violence. However, the German army attacked without an ultimatum. Since France has promised to protect Poland the martial law has proclaimed the first day of mobilisation will be 2 September. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Carmilla asks, and it must be the dozenth time that she has asked Laura that since they decided they were going to do this, but she needs to be sure. 

Laura lets out a quiet sigh. “Yes. I am sure,” she says steadily. “And I am not going to stop being sure just because you keep asking, okay?”

Carmilla nods reluctantly, and Laura gives her a reassuring smile.

Carmilla gets to her feet and starts pacing back and forth across the library. “Okay, okay. How are we going to do this?” 

Laura leans back in her chair and mulls over the question. “Obviously, we need to expose at least some of the underhand tactics and dirty connections your mother has been using to get ahead in the business,” she muses out loud. Carmilla gestures for her to continue.

“The problem will be making sure that our story is credible. We can’t just throw around accusations without any sort of proof which- I’m assuming you don’t have anything concrete that we could use?” Laura looks up at Carmilla questioningly, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t even have letters or notes. She gave me all my directions in person or through her secretary,” Carmilla says hopelessly.

Laura blows a breath out through her nose and changes tactic. “Okay so we don’t have hard evidence, but we have insider knowledge of who she sabotaged and how, right? If the accounts are detailed enough, then they will be impossible to shrug off. But-” Laura cuts herself off abruptly and makes a face.

“But?” Carmilla asks.

“But if we did that, there is no way they wouldn’t realise you were involved. You would be throwing yourself under the bus by implicating yourself along with your mother. And that wouldn’t get us anywhere.”

Laura frowns, like she is trying to solve a particularly difficult maths problem, but Carmilla is still focused on processing what she just said. Laura is right, the only viable way to take her mother down is to create an account so detailed that it must be true. Which in turn will implicate Carmilla, but with everything else that she is running from, what is one more demon?

“I’ll do it,” she says.

“What?” Laura is startled out of her train of thought.

“The interview. I’ll do it,” Carmilla clarifies. “If that’s what it takes to get Maman locked up, I will expose myself.” 

“That would be- Carm, you’d be risking your life,” Laura tries, stumbling over her own words. “What if your mother found out before we can publish it all?”

“Yeah, well, I suppose that’s a risk worth taking… She has been manipulating me my entire life and I’m not going to pass by an opportunity to take away her power before she does the same thing to someone else.” Carmilla says in a rush.

“Wow, that’s really brave of you Carm,” Laura says, beaming up at her. Carmilla’s heart swells just looking at that smile, and all the faith in it. She still doesn’t understand how Laura can have so much faith in her, after all that she did. It is more than she ever deserved.

“Your doctor friend even has a typewriter over here,” Laura says and points at the dusty old thing pushed into the corner. “Ready when you are, Carm.” 

It takes several hours to record the entire interview. Laura sits at the typewriter writing everything down, while Carmilla tries to remember all the details as best as she can. Sometimes it takes a lot out of Carmilla, because it means remembering a painful past that she hid for so many years, but it brings out Laura’s years of experience as a journalist. She encourages her and asks exactly the right questions to get it all perfectly on paper. Carmilla can’t help but feel proud of her, even if the process is incredibly draining. 

With a sigh of relief Laura types out the last few words. It’s several pages long, filled with a detailed account of Lilita blackmailing and manipulating influential people. 

“Okay, it’s done,” Laura says and gives Carmilla a smile, which is the thing she needs most right now. She reaches out to rest her hand on Carmilla’s knee. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Carmilla mumbles. She doesn’t really feel like making a big scene out of it. It feels good to finally tell someone about the underhand things she had to do for years. And she’s glad Laura is the one whom she shared it with. 

“Who will be the lucky one to receive this tell-all story filled with my deepest and darkest secrets?” Carmilla says, to turn the conversation away from her state of mind.

“I think it will be best to send it to someone who will benefit from the story,” Laura says, “So one of the competing newspapers I’d suggest.” 

“Well, _Völkischer Observator_ is out of the question. I know for a fact that the chairman would keep the information to his own. Maman and I found out about his affair, so he will use this information to blackmail Maman back.”

“Plus, that newspaper is run by Nazis and I don’t trust them,” Laura adds.

Carmilla squeezes Laura’s hand, because her indignant tone had sounded adorable. “That too.” 

“ _Die Gemeinschaft_ is that socialist-catholic paper. They could profit from it, but they’ve pretty much been playing to the Nazis agenda without second thought,” Laura says.

“I think _Frankfurter Neue Zeitung_ is our safest bet,” Carmilla suggests. “Since they are a liberal paper they’ve had to comprise a lot since Hitler’s regime to stay in print. They are similar to Vadum that way, reluctantly supportive. That would work.”

“I know, but Neue Zeitung is _Vadum Francorum_ ’s biggest competitor and I don’t really want them to have all the glory,” Laura mumbles a bit reluctantly. 

Carmilla chuckles at her pettiness. “Thus making it the best choice.” 

“Okay fine,” Laura says with a small pout. “But we have to keep in mind that this will mostly likely get checked by Nazis before it passes to Neue Zeitung. What if the person who checks this actually goes to your mother first to bribe her?” 

“We can’t be sure that will happen.”

“But we can’t rule it out either,” Laura says immediately. 

Carmilla sighs, “Then we have to make sure we have a place besides here, where we cannot be found.” 

“Can you arrange that?”

“Yeah, I think,” Carmilla says. “But that’s probably going to take another week or two to make sure we’re not traceable.” 

Laura nods. “Okay. We might have to ask Jean-Pierre if he’s fine with that. He doesn’t seem too pleased that we’re here in the first place.” 

Carmilla swiftly kisses her cheek. “Let me take care of that.”

Laura follows her anyway, and when they walk into the lounge they find Jean-Pierre sitting restlessly in a chair. He immediately stands up when he hears them coming in and seems to quickly slide a telegram into his pockets. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says with a firm nod.

“What was that thing he slid in his pocket?” Laura whispers to Carmilla. 

“Be quiet, you nosy reporter,” Carmilla replies under her breath.

Since Jean-Pierre doesn’t understand what they are saying he takes it as a cue they want to use the lounge in private. He is about to walk out of the room when Carmilla quickly grabs his attention. “Jean-Pierre, we have a question for you.” 

JP turns around and tries to give them his best smile, but his tired eyes give him away. “Ask away.” 

“You see, we’ve come up with a plan to get my mother arrested by publicly exposing her,” Carmilla explains. “But we need some time to find a new place to live. We wanted to ask you if we could stay here in the meantime. We’ll make sure to pay rent and help out with the household and everything, so as to not be any trouble to you.” 

“I think that’s fair,” Jean-Pierre says, but before they can so much as sigh in relief he adds, “But impossible.” 

Carmilla’s face drops. “What do you mean?”

He points at Laura. “Your girlfriend. The only reason she is here is because of LaFontaine’s letter. No doubt the Nazis copied it and have the address in their archive. Publish the story and they will track you down. Since Laura is supposed to be your roommate, and missing as well, they will quickly realize you are hiding here,” JP explains. “Besides, some Nazis or even your mother could already be on their way here, since you’ve both been missing for a while now. It’s too dangerous for you to stay, you’ll probably be arrested within a day or two.” 

“You really think they’re already on there way?” Carmilla asks horrified.

“What’s going on?” Laura asks, noticing the shift of tone in their language. 

Carmilla turns to Laura. “JP just told me we can’t stay here. Which means we have nowhere else to go.”

“Wait, you mean we can’t visit one of your many friends in Europe?” 

“Of course not. All those friends are linked to Maman in some way or another. Doc is the only one she isn’t connected to.” 

Laura brings her hand to her mouth as she realizes what this means “And they will find out we’re here because of the letter LaFontaine sent me.” 

Carmilla nods with desperation in her eyes. “We have nowhere to go.” 

“Maybe I can help,” Jean-Pierre says when he sees their horrified expressions. “You need a place to stay, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“I have an ally,” JP says slowly, “But he doesn’t live in Europe. He’s from New York.” 

“New York?” Laura catches in all the French.

JP nods at her and turns back to Carmilla. “It’s your choice. I can arrange everything before nightfall.”

“You understand we have to be untraceable, right?” Carmilla asks.

“Yes I understand, but the chaos of the war will help you with that,” JP answers. “However, if you want to leave tonight you’ll have to let me know within an hour.”

“You want us to make an impossible life decision within an _hour_?” 

JP sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s the fastest I can work. You can always wait, but I don’t recommend it. Germany just invaded Poland, you can use that as a cover to escape unnoticably.” 

“I get it,” Carmilla says and glances over at Laura before saying, “We’ll be back within a hour to tell you our answer.” 

\-- 

They lock themselves up in the guest bedroom, sitting next to one another on the side of the bed.

“It’s a better deal than our original plan,” Carmilla says, breaking the silence. “If it works, we’ll be safe for sure.” 

“Yeah,” Laura nods absently. 

It’s a lot to take in, Carmilla knows. 

“And it’s too dangerous for me to stay, so-”

“What if we don’t publish the story and flee anyway?” Laura turns to her, sounding hopeful. 

“No,” Carmilla says in a rush. “We can’t do that. I- I’m scared Maman will find me. She _will_ find me. No, if we’re going to do this we’re doing it the right way.” 

“You could go to jail, Carm,” Laura says softly.

“I know,” she says. “But I’d rather be in jail than know that Maman still walks free.” 

“Okay, so we’ll publish the story anyway,” Laura says. “Now, we just need to decide if we are going to take Jean-Pierre’s offer.”

“I have to take it. It’s too good to pass up,” Carmilla says. “You have to decide if you want to come along or not.”

“I’m going with you,” Laura states. 

“Laura please, think about this very carefully. You don’t have to go with me, you’re not the one who has been spying and blackmailing for years.” 

“You’re doing it again. You’re deciding for the both of us.”

Carmilla shakes her head. “No, I just want you to realize the consequences. We will probably have to stay in America. You’ll have to leave everything behind. You’ll have to leave your job, our home. You won’t be able to see your friends or your father again. We have to adapt to a new country with another language and a different culture. This is not an easy decision.”

“I am aware of that,” Laura says. “But if I go back, I’ll still have no job; I’m probably fired by now. I can’t pay the rent for our apartment. Germany is under a dictatorship and at _war_. My life will be drastically different anyway, and I prefer to have my life collapse together with you.” 

Laura gives Carmilla a smile and adds, “Besides, you always wanted to go to the Museum of Art in New York, right?”

Carmilla lets out a laugh. “Laura, I swear.”

She gives her an innocent smile. “What?”

A warm smile appears on her Carmilla’s face. She pushes a strand of hair out of Laura’s face and can’t help but look into her bright eyes. “I’ve missed you, is all.”

Laura blushes and quickly presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’re such a sap.” 

They tangle their fingers together and Carmilla looks back up at Laura. 

“So, we’re going to do this?”

“Yeah,” Laura says. “I guess so.” 

\--

It’s almost midnight by the time they are all standing just outside the front door, the air still soft from a warm summer day. Carmilla and Laura are both lightly burdened with only a rucksack each. A handful of clothes will have to last them for the trip, and once they are in New York they’ll have to start all over again. At twelve o’clock, JP has arranged for a car and a driver who will get them to the bay. He ordered him to park a few streets away, just to be safe.

Carmilla glances at Laura and she figures it’s as good a time as ever to say their goodbyes.

“Thank you for all the trouble you went through,” Carmilla says to JP as she shakes his hand. “It means a lot to us.”

Jean-Pierre nods. "I may not fully approve of your past but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a better future." 

She smiles at him and turns to LaFontaine. “I owe you, Doc.”

“You owe me twice, Karnstein,” LaF says with a smile and gives her a pat on the shoulder. “Take care.” 

Carmilla gives them a grin. “You too.”

Laura shuffles between the two and throws LaFontaine off guard for a second when she embraces them in a big hug. 

“Merci… Merci beaucoup,” she says, in her best stumbling French. 

Carmilla smiles proudly, because Laura had only just asked her how to thank someone in French. 

“Nichts zu danken,” they smile and Laura lets go off them.

She seems to quickly wipe away a tear and then turns to look at Carmilla. “Shall we go?”

Carmilla nods and when her hand brushes against Laura’s she can’t help but let their fingers tangle. It’s only for the walk towards the car, she knows that, they can’t be seen. But every moment she can be as close to Laura as possible counts. 

\--

JP and LaF watch as Carmilla and Laura leave into the pitch-black night. At least they have the option to flee from their problems, Jean-Pierre thinks longingly, he will have to face them once more. 

LaFontaine gives him a look and smiles fondly at him. "I know how hard that was for you."

"Don’t compliment me. This small good deed is nothing compared to the horrifying things I’ve done in my life,” JP says bitter. “Have a suitcase ready just in case. You might have to leave Péronne soon.” 

He walks off and leaves a stunned LaF behind, knowing he’s not the only one terrified by the war. They’ve both experienced one before, and he isn’t sure he can handle it another time.

JP gets into the lounge and closes the door. He starts pacing up and down while gripping his head. He received a message today saying he needs to go back to war. He even read it in this room. He is needed, but he can’t do it. 

Jean-Pierre feels his anger burning his chest. He can’t do it. He can’t. He survived the Great War, but he was young and fit then. Plus he only had to fight for a year, this time it’s different. This time he has to be there from the start. God knows how long this one will go on for. He can’t-

In a swift movement he snatches up an empty glass from the table and smashes it against the wall. He cuts himself in the movement and blood drips from his hand. Defeated, he sits down on the couch and tears run down his face. He buries his head in his hands and let the sobs out while he still can. 

The door swings open and LaFontaine stands in the doorway. 

“Why the hell did you say-” LaF’s angry tone immediately fades away when they see JP sitting amongst the mess of broken glass. “JP, what’s the matter?”

“Please- Please leave me be,” Jean-Pierre says while he wipes away his tears, accidentally smearing blood over his face. “I don’t want to hurt you too.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day,” LaF says softly.

“I got a telegram,” JP swallows and gets the paper out of his pocket to place it on the table. “They expect me to be in Paris tomorrow. I’m going back to front, to war.” 

LaFontaine slowly walks over and sits next to JP on the couch. “You’ve been to the front many times before.”

“Not like this,” JP says. “Not on this scale. I have to lead 30,000 men now. They count on me. People will die on my command, whether they are French or German. Innocent lives, taken away or scarred forever. I-I can’t do it.” 

“You’ve fought in a war before. You’re even more experienced than back then.” 

“You don’t understand. I can’t explain- the rats are the size of cats, fleas are everywhere and everything smells. Death is all around you, and all you can do is close your eyes and pretend you don’t see it. Feeling disgusted by yourself. Realizing you’re a murderer…” 

He looks at them, with tears in his eyes. “I’ve _killed_ people, LaFontaine. I’ve killed fathers and sons, uncles, friends, loved ones. I’ve slaughtered them while praying a bomb would just drop and kill us all. How could I possibly go back there?” 

LaF, not knowing how to respond, hugs him tightly. “You don’t have to go.”

Jean-Pierre embraces LaF back and holds them close. “I wish it were so.”

The silence sinks in between them, not letting go off each other.

“My father said those words too, back in 1914,” LaF whispers. “Have a suitcase ready.”

Their words sound incredibly small. “I don’t think I can do this another time, Jean-Pierre.”

“I know,” he whispers, knowing exactly what LaF means. “I’m so sorry.” 

_Sorry we have to go through this again. Sorry they’ll have to pray each day he won’t die at the front. Sorry millions of innocent lives will be taken again. Sorry our world works the way it does._

If only sorry could cut it. Tomorrow he will have to leave anyway.

Frankfurter Neue Zeitung - _Media Tycoon Lilita Morgan arrested!_

FRANKFURT 8 Sep. 1939 - After a tell-all interview that was sent anonymously to our headquarters, Lilita Morgan, head of newspaper Vadum Francorum and several other media corporations, has been arrested for fraud and blackmailing a number of people. Although the original source of the interview was untraceable, it appears the only person who could have such detailed information about the events would be her foster daughter Ms. Karnstein. Who, after thoroughly investigation of the police, appears to be missing for over a month. Ms. Morgan is currently being held before her trial, which will take place in a few weeks. 

Laura crosses the deck of the boat easily, her legs accustomed to the gentle sway of the deck after nearly a week at sea. The same could not be said for Carmilla, who had spent most of the daylight hours of the trip leaning over the railing of the boat and refusing to move.

In fact, she was doing so right now.

“Are you feeling any better?” Laura asks in a small voice. She hates that she can’t do anything to help. She hates that they have to be on the boat at all, if she is being honest.

Carmilla looks up with a weak smile that quickly fades into a grimace. “Not really.”

Laura sighs, and moves to lean against the rail next to her girlfriend. The view from the ship would be beautiful if it hadn’t been all that they’d seen for the past week. She turns to look at Carmilla instead, who has her eyes shut and is sucking in gulps of air through her mouth. Even with her pale face and nauseous grimace, she manages to look more beautiful than Laura will ever be. 

Laura wishes that she could lean over and kiss Carmilla, but their boarding papers listed them as sisters, which is a ridiculous thought to begin with because they look absolutely _nothing_ alike. Besides, Laura imagines that kissing is not exactly sisterly behaviour and might concern the other passengers on the deck. She giggles slightly at the thought.

“What?” Carmilla asks, turning to raise a single eyebrow at Laura.

“Nothing,” Laura says. “Just thinking about… incest.” 

Carmilla frowns in confusion, and Laura giggles again. The ship lurches suddenly under their feet and they both turn their eyes back to the horizon again, the motion bringing Laura back to the reality of their situation.

They are leaving everything behind, every tie to their old lives cut as completely as possible. Only Carmilla’s doctor friend and their husband even know where they are. Not even Laura’s dad- Laura swallows around the lump that has suddenly appeared in her throat. She can’t think about her father right now.

“We’ll be alright,” Carmilla says quietly, and Laura realises that her face has been betraying her thoughts. She quickly rearranges her face into a smile.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one trying to cheer you up?” Laura jokes, nudging Carmilla gently with her shoulder. 

Carmilla gives her a weak smile and then turns her eyes back to the horizon. “I mean it. We’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Laura says, and turns her face away from Carmilla into the breeze. “I know you do.” 

\--

Carmilla falls asleep right after dinner, which she only picks at. Laura had watched her anxiously as she pushed her food around her plate, but she couldn’t say anything in the dining room, where they were surrounded by strangers.

By the time that Laura returns to their tiny cabin, Carmilla is blissfully asleep, and Laura doesn’t have the heart to wake her. She settles down on the end of the bed with a book, one of the few things that she packed before she left her life behind. She thinks about their apartment with a sigh, all those bookshelves full of philosophy and science left to the mercy of the Nazis. And all of Carmilla’s records, and Laura’s typewriter. All of it lost to them forever.

Carmilla rolls over and mumbles in her sleep, and Laura takes a moment to notice how soft and happy Carmilla’s face is when she’s sleeping. It’s been a long time since Laura saw her look that open and free with her eyes open. 

She wonders how long it will be before they are able to smile again.

There is a loud knock on the door and she startles to her feet, rushing across the tiny room to answer the door, before the noise wakes Carmilla. She swings the door open with a frown.

“Knock a little louder, why don’t you!” She hisses at the short man standing outside the door. He frowns back at her.

“Excuse me. I was simply trying to return your sister’s scarf, which she left in the dining room. No need to be needlessly rude,” he grunts at her. Laura grabs Carmilla’s scarf out of his meaty hands and considers slamming the door in his face. Better not.

“Thank you, sir,” she says, and then shuts the door before he can say anything more. 

She walks across to their bags and slowly folds Carmilla’s scarf to place it where she will find it for breakfast tomorrow morning. She is already regretting being so rude to the man. Technically, she and Carmilla are travelling under false pretenses. They can’t afford to draw attention to themselves, which is exactly what she just did. But everything at this moment is so stressful. Not just the trip itself, but the way they don’t have any access to the news. They can’t even be sure their plan worked, or if they are fleeing for nothing. 

Laura sighs. There is nothing she can do about it now, so she crosses over to the bed where Carmilla is still sleeping peacefully. Technically Laura has her own bed, but she prefers to curl up in the nonexistent space next to Carmilla.

If there is anything that Laura has learnt from everything that happened since Carmilla ran away from her, it’s that she should treasure every moment that she has Carmilla at her side. 

\--

They wake up the next morning to the sound of shouting in the hallway. Laura is up and out of bed in seconds, while Carmilla is still grumbling and pulling the covers over her head. Laura leaves her to wake up and goes over to open the door and stick her head out into the hall.

A young boy is running past the door, and Laura reaches out to grab him by the arm and ask, “What is happening?”

“The statue,” he tells her with a grin. “You can see the statue!”

It takes a moment for Laura’s sleep-addled brain to catch up. “The Statue of Liberty?”

The boy rolls his eyes at her and shakes free of her grip. 

“Carm!” Laura yells over her shoulder. “Get up!”

Carmilla just grumbles and buries her face in her pillow, but Laura drags her out of bed in a matter of minutes, half pleading and half pushing her toward the door.

They arrive on deck to see that half the rest of the passengers are already up, all eyes on the horizon over the bow of the boat. Laura drags Carmilla up to a better vantage point, and they both gasp in synchrony at the impressive sight of Lady Liberty silhouetted on the horizon. 

They stand in silence with the other passengers, as the skyline of New York comes into focus on the horizon. It’s an impressive sight, but it makes Laura heartache to think how different it is from Frankfurt, the place that will always truly be her home.

She reaches down and subtly takes Carmilla’s hand, the best show of affection she can make in such a large crowd. Carmilla squeezes her hand tight and smiles at her. Whatever else happens, at least they will be together now. In the land they claim is for the Free.

Welcome to New York. 


	12. Freedom and Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Laura and Carmilla have to start all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings:** Discrimination.

New York Daily Journal - _Germans invade Warsaw!_

WARSAW, Sep. 9, 1939 - Even at the most southern part of the Polish capital, the river Weichsel was reached by German troops. The German Wehrmacht announced the following: The German Panzertruppe penetrated Warsaw on Friday at 17.15 hours. The Wehrmacht have reached Weichsel at Sandomierz in the south of Poland and Góra Kalwaria southeast of Warsaw. According to Havas, big Polish divisions have been relocated the the front of “The Five Rivers” in the northern and southern parts of Warsaw, to defend themselves against the German army. 

Carmilla pushes herself through the crowd to make sure to get her feet on solid ground as soon as possible. Spending a week on sea has been nothing but horrible. Laura follows calmly, lining up politely to get off the boat. Carmilla gestures to move a little faster, but Laura just grins at her and takes her time. She knows how much Carmilla hates waiting. 

When Laura is finally standing next her girlfriend, her grin hasn’t left her face yet.

“Sometimes you really have the personality of a cat, you know that?”

“Sometimes you need to keep your commentary to yourself,” Carmilla responds and without waiting for Laura’s answers continues, “We need to find this contact Jean-Pierre sent. All I know is that his name is Johnson. I’m not even sure if that’s his real name.” 

She lets her gaze wander over the masses of people that are walking around the bay. There must be over a thousand people here.

“That’s not going to be a problem _at all._ ” 

“Would you just relax? You haven’t even looked at the city since you got off the boat. It’s absolutely gorgeous here,” Laura says with a smile on her face. 

“Buildings. People. Yeah, super exciting,” Carmilla says dryly as she gestures around herself. “Okay, lets go.” 

Laura lets out a laugh and follows Carmilla into the crowd. It takes a good while, but more and more people seem to leave the bay and after a good twenty minutes of searching, a man addresses them.

“Are you the Müller sisters?” he asks them.

Carmilla is thrown off a little by his thick American accent, but Müller is what their boarding papers say, so he should be Jean-Pierre’s ally.

“Yes, are you Johnson?” Carmilla asks, stumbling over her words slightly as she adjusts to speaking in English.

“Yes I am!” the man says with a big smile. “Pf, it’s crowded here, isn’t it? Lets head to my apartment. I’m all the way over in Brooklyn!” 

“Sounds like a plan,” she says and starts following Johnson. 

Laura, having missed the entire conversation, hurries to walk next to Carmilla and asks, “So is that Jean-Pierre’s contact?”

“Seems like it,” Carmilla says. “He knew the name Jean-Pierre has given us.”

“He looks incredibly happy,” Laura notes.

Carmilla shrugs. “Maybe Jean-Pierre has just weird friends.” 

They follow Johnson for quite some while, his brisk pace keeping him ahead of them. But from time to time he looks over his shoulder and smiles at them.

“You’ve ever been on a subway?” he asks.

“That’s under the ground, right? No, I haven’t,” Carmilla says. 

“Fantastic! You’re gonna love it,” he says and gestures for them to follow him down the stairs.

\--

They’ve been travelling what seems to be at least half an hour before they finally arrive at Johnson’s apartment. 

“It’s a bit of a hike, isn’t it!” he exclaims. 

“Sure was,” Carmilla says, still somewhat out of breath.

“I’m sorry, I was in such a rush I haven’t even properly introduced myself,” he says and sticks out his left hand. “Folks call me Scooter.” 

Carmilla shakes his hand. “I’m Carmilla and this is my friend Laura.” 

Scooter nods and shakes Laura’s hand with a smile. “Good to meet you, ladies.”

“She only speaks very basic English, but we’re working on that, aren’t we?” she addresses Laura. 

Laura, who seemed to have zoned out of the conversation, quickly nods. “Yes! Eh, yes we are.” 

“That’s great!” Scooter says encouraging. “English isn’t so hard, you’ll pick it up real quick.”

Laura looks with a confused expression at Carmilla, who suddenly realizes that she is going to be the bridge between the different languages. 

“Is greeting with your left hand a custom here in America?” Carmilla says, to break the awkward silence. They might as well know about all the customs here. 

“Oh no!” Scooter laughs. “No, I lost my right arm in the Great War. It’s a prosthetic, but it does absolutely nothing. It’s just so that people don’t freak out.”

Carmilla face drops when she realizes what she just said. “I’m so sorry. I just- That was rude.” 

“Don’t worry!” Scooter says and pats his fake right arm. “At least they can’t force me to do the Nazi salute now!” 

He laughs at his own joke, but immediately stops when he sees their horrified expressions.

“Oh god,” he says. “I thought we were joking around. That was in such bad taste, I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Carmilla says and looks at Laura. “We’re just… Not really used to people openly joking about Hitler.”

“Right!” Scooter says. “You must be pretty overwhelmed, huh? I’ll just take you ladies up to your room.”

\--

Scooter seems like a very enthusiastic and honest fellow, Laura has to admit, even though she doesn’t always understand what he’s saying. He showed them around the apartment and the room that will be theirs for the time being. Apparently, he has a lot of contacts in New York, Carmilla told her he’s trying to arrange a flat for them.

Right now they are sitting at the table, waiting for Scooter to finish dinner. Not to say that Carmilla isn’t a good cook, she’s at least better than Laura, but the air smells absolutely amazing right now. 

It’s weird to be in a different house, a stranger’s house above all. Carmilla immediately gushed over the books Scooter has lying around. He said she could read whatever she liked. Laura would’ve joined, but unfortunately nothing is in German. Her English isn’t good enough to read a whole book, so she has ended up sitting at the table, watching Carmilla read and trying very hard not to start drooling out of boredom. 

She looks over at her girlfriend and Laura is reminded that she has always found that when Carmilla is reading there is a certain peace around her that she rarely has otherwise. When Laura realizes Scooter can’t see them, she sneakily presses a kiss to Carmilla’s cheek.

Carmilla startles out of her reading and looks at her. “Be careful with that,” she whispers.

“You weren’t going to pay attention to me otherwise,” Laura says. 

She chuckles and puts the book down. “Moving continents isn’t exciting enough for you, cupcake?”

“I honestly thought moving to America would be more exciting,” Laura says and leans her head on Carmilla’s shoulder. “And less tiring.” 

“We’ve been travelling for a week, of course you’re tired,” Carmilla says as slings an arm around Laura’s shoulders. 

“You know, if we get our own apartment I could kiss you again,” Laura says. 

“Hm, would you like that?” 

Laura frowns. “Of course I’d like that, you’re my girlfriend.” 

“Well, you’ve got to have a bit more patience, buttercup, I don’t think Scooter would be too thrilled with us making out,” Carmilla says and takes her arm off Laura’s shoulder to tickle her in her side. 

Laura jumps up and lets out a giggle. “Carm!” she warns her. 

Carmilla smirks and brings her hand dangerously close to her side again.

“Carm, don’t you _dare_ ,” Laura says as she tries to shove her chair as far apart from Carmilla as possible.

“And what if I _do_ dare?” Carmilla challenges her as she brings her face closer.

“Dinner is ready!” Scooter almost sings as he walks into the room with a boiling pan.

The two immediately pull apart, hoping Scooter hadn’t seen them. 

He puts the soup down the table. “What were you ladies up to?”

Not kissing, that’s for sure, Laura thinks.

“We were talking about possible jobs,” Carmilla deadpans. 

“Oh excellent!” Scooter says as he dishes up their plates for them. When he realizes what he’s doing he immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry, just a habit my dad taught me! I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Carmilla says, trying her best to be polite.

Scooter smiles at her and when he sits down he immediately digs in. “About those jobs,” he says after he swallowed his mouthful. “I managed to get you both some.”

Laura looks at Carmilla and hopes she is planning on translating this all for her after dinner.

“That’s incredible!” Carmilla says.

“Now they’re very low-profile jobs, but I’m ‘fraid you’ll have to get used to that.” 

“We understand. What are the jobs?”

“Outta the top of my head, the one named Carmilla is to work in a textile factory.”

“That’d be me,” Carmilla says. “And Laura?”

“Your girlfriend will be working in a newspaper factory if I’m correct,” Scooter says. “You both start September 18.” 

Carmilla turns to Laura. “You heard that? He arranged jobs for the both of us.” 

Laura nods. “Yeah, I think I got most of that.” 

She quietly turns back to her soup as Carmilla and Scooter seem to chat on about something. Suddenly she realizes how little English she knows. She hasn’t been able to talk to Scooter at all, and she can’t even understand Carmilla when she talks like that. If they’re going to live in New York she is going to need to learn English fast. 

\--

Even though there are two mattresses laying in the room, Laura had decided to curl up next to Carmilla. Which basically means she is now laying half on top of her, her head buried in Carmilla’s shoulder. She immediately drifted off like that, which no one can blame her for. It’s been a few incredibly long and stressful days. Carmilla softly strokes Laura hair while her other hand holds her tight around her waist. Sometimes it’s nice, she thinks, to be able to hold your home in your arms.

The door cracks open and Carmilla panics, because Laura is still resting on top of her and that’s not something that _friends_ would do. It’s too late however to do anything and Scooter quietly walks towards them.

“Hey, I’ve got some ne-” he says in a soft tone, but then notices Carmilla’s expression. “You look worried. Is something wrong?”

“Eh well-” Carmilla says quickly. “It’s just that my _friend_ was so tired she ehm... fell asleep… on me.”

“Your girlfriend isn’t sick is she?” Scooter asks, concern threading his voice.

Carmilla shakes her head. “Just tired from the trip.” 

Scooter lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh good. I thought she might caught a flu or something.” 

He gives an endearing smile at the sight of how comfortable Laura seems to be wrapped in Carmilla’s arms. “You two are a really beautiful couple.”

Carmilla looks up in surprise. Couple? 

“Y-You know?”

“Yeah, ‘course, Jean-Pierre told me all about you two.” 

Suddenly she realizes that all along there had been a miscommunication in the translation. In German the word Freundin can both mean girlfriend or a female friend, but now she remembers that in English those are two separate words. He had been referring them as _girlfriends_ the entire day. Nobody has ever done that before. They are always just friends to the rest of the world. But to Scooter they are a couple. 

She tears up without realizing and Scooter softly lays his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

Carmilla nods her head. “It’s just that… No one has ever said that about us.” She looks at Laura who is still fast asleep. “That we’re… _girlfriends_.”

“That’s a real shame, I can see you two love each other a lot,” Scooter says. “That shouldn’t have to be a dirty secret, now should it? A love that good should be celebrated.”

She just nods and smiles with teary eyes, because she can’t really think of anything to say to such a kind response. 

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I just heard from my source. You can move in your flat in three days, give or take.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Carmilla says. “We’ll try to not be a bother to you in the meantime.” 

“You lovely ladies aren’t a bother to me. It’s good to have the company,” he says while standing up again. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” Carmilla whispers. 

She watches as Scooter walks away.

“Scooter?” 

He turns around. “Hm?”

“Thank you… Truly,” Carmilla says, and she can hear how unsteady her voice sounds. “For everything.”

“I’m just glad to help,” he says with a smile and quietly leaves the room again.

Carmilla looks at Laura and wraps her other arm around her as well. She softly presses a kiss to the crown of her head. This place may suck, but at least they have each other. Maybe there are worst places to have your life fall apart. It may not be the best situation, but at least they have a chance now to build up their lives together. For real this time.

New York Daily Journal - _Agreement still stands_

Sep. 12, 1939 - The monetary agreement between The United States, France and England still stands, as stated by Morgenthau, Minister of Finances. According to the Minister there hasn’t been a fracture in the “spirit” of the monetary agreement. Since France has to act under pressure due to the war, from now on France will compete against the American dollar. The US will continue to import and export gold from both countries.

Scooter hands over the apartment keys to Carmilla. "It's not much. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything better, but on such short notice..."

"Don't worry," Carmilla says. "It's more than we deserve."

“The furniture is already in the apartment, but you probably need to clean it,” Scooter says.

“Sure thing.” 

“Oh, and here’s some extra cash to get you through the first week,” he says as he presses some money in Carmilla’s hand.

“That’s very generous, thank you,” Carmilla gets out, struggling to convey how grateful she really is. 

“Now, if you ever need anything, even just a chat, you can always stop by,” Scooter says with a generous smile. 

Carmilla nods. “We will. Thanks again for going through so much trouble.”

“It was absolutely no problem at all!”

He gives them a mock-salute in farewell, and Laura and Carmilla start walking to their new apartment, following the map Scooter had drawn for them. At first Laura fills the space between them with light chatter and how it may be fun to furnish an entire new apartment again. But as they walk on, the neighbours get grimmer and the buildings tackier. It makes them both go quiet as they walk through the streets. 

When finally reach their flat, it looks absolutely horrifying. A few windows within throwing distance are smashed. The left side of the wall is blackened, as if it had recently been in a fire and there’s graffiti everywhere. It seems like most of these apartments have been broken into and are now inhabited by either junkies or homeless people. 

“Maybe it’s better inside?” Carmilla tries to be upbeat for Laura, even though she doesn’t believe it herself. 

Laura takes a deep breath as Carmilla opens the first door. They walk to the second floor where there new apartment is, and Carmilla has to use her entire weight to force the jammed door open. 

“Well, that’s going to be fun doing everyday,” she says annoyed and lets go off the doorknob.

The flat is small, even smaller than Laura’s first flat. The kitchen is part of the living room, if you can even call it that. There is an old couch and it seems most likely they’ll have to eat their meals there too. Or maybe they could fit a tiny table somewhere in the cramped space, if they try hard enough. But the cramped space is nothing compared to the horrible smell that fills the air in the apartment.

“Holy shit, did someone _die_ in here?” Carmilla says as she pinches her nose shut. 

She immediately walks towards the window and opens it up to let in the fresh air. 

“We’re going to live here?” Laura asks stiffly. 

“Yeah, give me a shout when you find the corpse, okay?” 

“Could you please not joke about that!” Laura’s anxious high-pitched voice makes Carmilla turn towards her. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Carmilla says softly when she sees Laura’s distressed expression and walks back over to her. “C’mere” she wraps her arms around Laura and holds her close.

“I know this is incredibly difficult, but right now all we can do is push through,” Carmilla whispers to her. 

“It’s just too much, Carm,” Laura says with a shaky voice. She looks up at Carmilla, as if she’s looking for some sort of solution.

“What if I go check the bedroom while you check out the bathroom?” Carmilla says as she looks in her eyes. “Step by step. You think you can do that?”

Laura nods reluctantly. “Okay.”

Carmilla quickly kisses Laura’s nose before she walks to the bedroom. There is a double bed that fills the entire room. It’s a bit rough around the edges, but with some new sheets they can make it work.

A loud scream from the bathroom makes Carmilla jump up and she sees Laura running to the living room. 

“Laura?” she immediately asks and walks after her.

“T-there’s a r-rat in the bathtub!” Laura stutters as she points towards the bathroom.

She brings her hands to her face and tears are in her eyes. “I-I can’t do this, Carm!” 

“Laura-”

Laura shakes her head as she runs out of the apartment.

“Laura!” Carmilla yells after her, but Laura is already running down the stairs. 

“Fuck” she mutters to herself as she walks to the bathroom, which is probably the grossest and smallest of all the rooms. She peeks over the bathtub and sees a small mouse scrambling in panicked circles.

“Ugh, gross,” Carmilla says, and makes a face. 

She better go after Laura now, hopefully she didn’t run far away, because Carmilla has no idea where to start looking. All the streets look so similar here. She closes the door and quickly runs downstairs, slightly relieved when she sees Laura’s sitting on the stairs, in front of the flat. 

Carmilla sits down next to her and puts a comforting arm around her shoulder. 

“I know this looks terrible, but I think if we clean it up a bit it won’t be _that_ bad.” 

“Easy for you to say, you could live in your own filth!” Laura says as she looks at her. “I need things to be _clean_ , Carmilla. You know I can’t live there.” 

“You didn’t expect to have apartment like we had back in Frankfurt, right?” Carmilla asks carefully.

“I didn’t know what I expected,” Laura shrugs. “But I figured wherever we would end up wouldn’t have pests in the bathtub and mold on the walls!” 

“Laura, take a deep breath,” she tells her. 

Laura nods and takes a few deep breathes. 

“I’m sorry, it’s all thrown me off,” she says when she has calmed down a bit.

“I understand, but you can get through this,” Carmilla says and nudges her. “You’re Laura freaking Hollis!”

Laura cracks up and gives Carmilla a smile. “I’d kiss you if we weren’t in public right now.”

“And I’d kiss you back,” Carmilla says with a smirk. 

“Okay, but I’m not going back in that flat before that _thing_ is burning in the deepest pit of hell.” 

“So it can haunt us in the afterlife? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 

Laura rolls with her eyes. “You’re not going to hell for dating me, you’re going for your bad sense of humor.” 

“Do you want the mouse dead?”

“Yes please.”

“Then I’d suggest you treat your lady with some respect, Hollis,” she says with a grin. 

Carmilla stands up to look if she can find a store down the road. “I think we can use some of that money Scooter gave us to get some cleaning supplies and some sheets for the bed. And poison for the mouse of course.”

Laura nods and Carmilla gives her a hand to help her get up. 

“And a blanket for the couch,” Laura adds to the list, “Because I’m _not_ sitting on that thing.” 

\--

They come back with tons of liquid soap and cleaning supplies. Carmilla has the rat poison in her hand while Laura is carrying the blanket. Laura wasn’t kidding when she said she wouldn’t go back inside, leaving Carmilla to face the task alone. 

Luckily for her, she has enough sense to close the bathroom door, so the mouse can’t escape. Not as if it appears to be clever enough anyway, because it still hasn’t left the bathtub. Carmilla puts down the food, that’s supposedly poison and sets up a few traps just to be sure. She checks all the other rooms for pests, but after a thorough search the rest seems clean. 

When she walks back into the bathroom the mouse is laying upside down in the tub. Either it’s stunned or dead, Carmilla isn’t sure. She picks it up and even with gloves on it’s still not very pleasant. She had better take it outside. 

Carefully she walks back downstairs, and for an instance it feels like the mouse is waking up again, but that’s probably only because she is moving. Carmilla steps outside and sees Laura’s still sitting outside on the stairs.

“Laura, do you want to see what I’ve got in my hands?”

“Get that thing _far_ away from me!” Laura immediately shrieks and jumps up. 

“Relax, it’s stunned,” Carmilla says with a grin.

“Don’t you- don’t you dare come any closer to me!” Laura says with a pointy finger.

Carmilla laughs. “Okay I’ll get this little guy as far away as possible.”

She walks off with the mouse in her hands and says over her shoulder, “The apartment is pest-free by the way, so we can start cleaning.”

\--

They spend hours cleaning, and it’s past eleven o’clock before they finally call it a day. The damp smell of pot and possible death have been replaced by layers of liquid soap. There is still a bit of mold on the walls, there are some stains they can’t get out of the floors and the curtains need a _serious_ wash, but for now, it’s liveable. 

Laura lets out a sigh as she gives the apartment one last look for the day. She thinks that if she sits down she’ll probably fall asleep immediately. 

“You can get rid of the cleaning gloves now, cupcake,” Carmilla says teasingly, from where she sits relaxed on the couch.

“No way, I’m keeping them on.”

“The couch is covered in a blanket.You’ll be germ-free if you come sit next to me.”

Laura starts taking off the gloves. “Yeah, because you’re so clean right now.” 

“Hey, I’ve had my hands soaked in soap for six hours, that counts as a bath today,” Carmilla says.

“Tell me about it,” Laura says as she flops down next to her girlfriend. “I’m so tired.” 

Carmilla kisses the side of her head. “The worst is behind us.” 

Laura smiles and takes Carmilla’s hand.

“Thank you,” Laura says and squeezes her hand, “For keeping it together.” 

“I kinda needed the distraction.” 

“Your mother’s trial is in two weeks right?” Laura says softly, looking at Carmilla. “Are you nervous?”

“If I said no,” Carmilla turns her head to her. “Would you believe me?”

“No.”

Laura lets her head rest on Carmilla’s shoulder. They’re not even sure if Ms. Morgan will get locked up, but their lives have drastically changed anyway. They are lucky they got this opportunity. Things could’ve been far worse, but still...

“It’s so unfair.”

“It is,” Carmilla softly says. “But sometimes that’s just how the world works.”

“I don’t want the world to work like that,” Laura mutters.

Carmilla gently plays with Laura’s fingers.

“I know.”

La Société - _The British have arrived!_

12 Sep. 1939 - With great enthusiasm British troops have been welcomed in France, meaning that the war has become British as well. Who are these soldiers who we will fight along side? They are the sons and young brothers of the men who fought in Ypres and Somme. These men have the same spirit and determination of those who went before them. The same men, who our enemy in spite of their loss, have praised for their bravery in “Mein Kampf”. Once more we will fight side by side to ensure freedom in Europe! 

The noise of tires crunching on gravel in front of their house makes LaFontaine lower their book to their lap. They walk over to the window and when they shove away the curtain they see a car has parked messily in front of their house. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but a man seems to get out of the backseat. When LaF realizes it is Jean-Pierre they immediately hurry to open the front door.

“JP? What are you doing here?” they say as they walk outside to get a closer look.

“Get your bags _now!_ ” he commands them and pushes them back in the house.

“Why are you here? There is a war going on!” they ask, halting him in the hallway. 

“Do you have that suitcase ready like I asked you?” Jean-Pierre says, ignoring their question.

“I-it’s upstairs in my room,” LaFontaine says, a bit startled. “Is there going to be a battle around Péronne again? Is that why I need to flee?”

“This is a personal matter,” Jean-Pierre says as he grabs their wrist. “Lets not waste time and get that suitcase, shall we?” 

“Do I get an explanation for your sudden hurry or should I just start guessing what’s going on?” LaFontaine says, slightly annoyed with the way he is avoiding the question, as they follow him upstairs. 

“Someone has found out of my acquaintances with Ms. Karnstein and are on their way to investigate both my post and our home,” Jean-Pierre tells rapidly. “One of my more loyal lieutenants informed me on this matter in time and helped me get away unnoticed.”

“They found out about Carmilla?”

JP opens the door to LaFontaine’s room.

“Well, most notably that I helped them illegally escape the country, but don’t worry I made sure the blame is on me.” 

“She’s _my_ friend,” LaFontaine says as they get their suitcase.

“Except you didn’t give a criminal and a refugee of the Third Reich an opportunity to flee to the States, did you, my love?” Jean-Pierre says. “Authorities suspect I have connections with the German press, given I know Ms. Karnstein. Her public exposure of Ms. Morgan isn’t making me look any better. They assume I have leaked vital national information to the Nazis.” 

“That’s rubbish,” LaF scoffs.

“I never said the accusations were from intelligent sources,” Jean-Pierre says.

“Are Carmilla and Laura safe?” LaF asks with a worried frown. 

“Yes. My communication methods with Scooter have always been undecipherable. His location will remain unknown and so will your friends’.” 

They give him a worried look.

“Lets go! We have not a minute to lose,” he says, as he gestures for them to go downstairs again. 

LaFontaine follows him as Jean-Pierre runs down the stairs two steps a time. He slows down when he realizes LaF has fallen behind and waits for them at the bottom of the stairs. When they are at the ground floor, JP gives them a hand and together they walk outside to the car. 

“These you need for boarding,” Jean-Pierre says as he gets some papers out of his jacket and hastily presses it in LaF’s hands.

“What about your papers?” they ask.

“That won’t be necessary as I am not going with you tonight.”

LaFontaine looks at him, eyes filled with hurt. “Why won’t you come with me?”

“I have responsibilities here,” he says quietly.

“I have responsibilities here too, Jean-Pierre! I am a doctor. I have patients!”

“It’s not the same.”

“Dammit JP! You are doing it again. You are putting yourself down to help others. For _once_ in your life choose for yourself!” 

“Listen to me, my love. I am a wanted man. I have to face my own consequences. I have no chance of fleeing this country. They will catch me. However you, my love, have a chance to get away. Take it. You deserve all the happiness in this world.”

“You deserve that happiness more,” LaF mumbles heavily. 

JP kisses them quickly and smiles. “I’ve had it for the longest time. I am a man of my word, and I will face the consequences.”

LaFontaine nods. They can’t talk him out of this. “Will you follow as soon as it’s safe?”

“The minute I can, I will be there,” Jean-Pierre says. “Go now. My heart will always be beating with yours.”

LaF takes a shaky breath. 

“And with yours.”

They get in the car and Jean-Pierre closes the door. LaFontaine looks out of the window to get a last glance at their husband, but the driver has already sped off.

New York Daily Journal - _Americans’ opinion on Hitler’s speech_

WASHINGTON, Sep. 20, 1939 - The speech of Hitler in Danzig will probably be the foundation of a “peace offensive” from the German side, which may be used in diplomatic action by Italy or maybe even the Soviet Union. It is believed amongst American citizens that this speech has shown Hitler’s wish to avoid a long-term war that could put his regime in danger, or even destroy it entirely. The Allies will almost certainly refuse any peace offensive, no matter how ingenious the offer may sound. The large regimes of Russia and Germany are still both holding their own, but if it comes down to a long fight, they may fall and turn to democracy. 

With a loud thud Laura slams the door, making Carmilla drop the spoon in the stewing bowl of soup on the stove. Laura hates everything about being in New York, but her work is the last straw.

“Today wasn’t any better?” Carmilla asks in concern as she cleans her hands with a towel.

“Worse. Way worse!” Laura says angry. “I did everything wrong, because the manager just rambles my orders in English and I can’t follow him if he talks so rapidly!” 

Carmilla walks towards her. “That’s ridiculous. If they don’t give you proper orders how can they expect you to follow them?”

“I know right?” Laura huffs out. “I _want_ to do a good job. We need the money, but learning a second language is hard enough on it’s own. They don’t have to yell at me!”

“Is your boss the only one who bothers you?”

“Oh, I _wish_ ,” Laura scoffs. “None of my co-workers speak German. I know a lot don’t speak English, but the ones who do make fun of me and constantly do the Hitler salute when I walk by.” 

“What the fuck?” 

"I thought we escaped that madman, but now we’re associated with him! As if I hadn’t had enough reason to despise him with my entire being. What the hell is wrong with this place?” 

Laura shrugs out of her coat and throws it on the table.

“And I'm _not_ cute. I'm not a fucking child. They don't even realize how well-spoken I am in German! I would rip them apart with words if I spoke English as well as I do German," Laura says angrily. "But _nooo_ , all I can do is stare blankly at them when they laugh at my ‘cute’ pronunciation." 

Defeatedly Laura sits down in a chair. “Look at me, Carm. I used to write the stories in the newspapers. Have an amazing job. Now I have to make sure the pages of those newspapers get turned out at the right time or else I get fired.” 

Carmilla quickly sits down next to her and takes her hands. “Hey, you will get there again. You’re an amazing journalist and those suckers probably didn’t even finish school. We’ll work on your English and soon you’re gonna write articles again, you’ll see!”

“When?” Laura says bitterly. “In ten years?” 

Carmilla gives her hand a comforting squeeze. “I was looking at the shop windows today after work,” she says as she stands to grabs something from the kitchen. “And I found this.” 

She hands Laura a small flat packet, wrapped messily, clearly by Carmilla herself.

“Carm, we barely have any money,” Laura immediately objects.

“I know, but just open it up,” she smiles as she sits down again. “This will be useful, I promise.”

Laura sighs and rolls her eyes helplessly at how keen Carmilla is to prove she is an even better girlfriend than she already was. 

When she opens the package Laura’s face lights up in surprise.

“A comic book?” Laura looks at Carmilla.

“Yeah,” Carmilla says. “I thought it would be a good start to help you learn the English language.” 

A shy smile appears on Laura’s face and she flips through the pages. 

“And _Superman_ is going to help me with my English?” Laura says, a bit teasing.

“I don’t care for the dude either. _But_ ,” Carmilla says with a small pause. “It also includes this cute woman called Lois Lane who is a very attractive and strong-headed journalist," she gives Laura a smile. "Like someone else I know." 

“Carm-” Laura says softly and then kisses her when words don’t seem to come out. 

“Thank you.”

“And we’ll work on it every day after dinner,” Carmilla promises. “I’ll help you. Obviously we’re going to start with curse words to make fools out of your co-workers.”

Laura lets out a laugh. 

“Maybe we can throw in some nice French and German ones as well,” Carmilla wonders out loud. 

She gives Carmilla a fond smile, endeared by how deeply in thought she seems, when she notices a weird smell coming from the kitchen. 

“Hey, I’m-a-genius-who-speaks-three-languages,” Laura says with a giggle. 

‘Hm?” Carmilla looks up. 

“Your soup is burning on the stove.” 

\--

LaFontaine walks off the boat and onto the mainland. It was weird to be on the ship without Jean-Pierre, but it’s even weirder to be without him on a completely different continent. They know they got lucky JP got them out there in time, but that doesn’t absolve the stinging guilt in their stomach. It’s still partly their fault after all. 

They look around and can already see Scooter in the distance, waiting for them. 

“Are you Doctor LaFontaine?” a postman addresses them.

“What?” LaF startles, not expecting to be addressed with their real name. They take a quick look at the man, but realizes he only delivers post and wouldn’t be sent by the police. “Yes I am.”

“I have a telegram for you,” he says as he hands them the message.

“Thank you, sir,” they say as he walks off again. 

LaFontaine checks the stamp and realizes it’s from the French embassy here in New York. It looks very official and since it’s from the embassy, they figure it must be from a contact within the French military. Except, Jean-Pierre would never deliver a message through the military service and especially not with their real name when he gave them different papers for the sea journey. If anything, he would send a message through Scooter. It couldn’t be from the authorities who have accused JP either, because he would never give their location. 

No, this must be from someone whom Jean-Pierre trusted. Maybe the lieutenant who helped JP get to Péronne in time... With shaky hands they open the telegram and read the short message inside.

Jean-Pierre Armitage has died STOP 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Whoops we did it again...) 
> 
> Feel free to [come scream at us](http://ellianderjoy.tumblr.com/ask) [on Tumblr](http://bannedfromzoos.tumblr.com/ask) for that chapter ending. We probably deserve it.
> 
> Or check out the [Tumblr tag](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-30s-au) for mutual flailing and news on updates.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Chapter Warnings** : discrimination, racism.

New York Daily Journal - _No death sentence for Ms. Morgan_

FRANKFURT Sep. 30, 1939 - The trial of German media tycoon Ms. Morgan has captivated Europe. Her business enterprise reached far beyond the borders of Germany and has touched millions of lives. It was shocking when the truth came out about her and how she had risen to power. After several days of trial the court has found Ms. Morgan guilty of the charges. The jury has found her guilty for blackmailing, fraud and high treason. Normally these charges would be punishable by death, however Ms. Morgan has managed to get away with a life sentence in jail. In her last statement she said that everything she had done was in good name. She did it for her company and its employees and to ensure a proper life for herself and her foster daughter Carmilla Karnstein. 

Laura walks into the living room and sees Carmilla is sitting at the table, her posture stiff. 

“So I’m guessing you heard the news?” Laura asks carefully. 

Carmilla gives a slight nod, but continues to stare into the distance. Laura sits down next to her silently and waits for Carmilla to be ready to speak. 

“Maman is in jail,” she says finally with a shaky voice and looks at Laura. “I should be happy, right? She was a horrible person. A horrible mother... Why- why am I not happy, Laura?”

Laura carefully takes her hand. “You love her, right? As your mother.”

Carmilla shakes her head. “It’s fucked up, I know.” 

“But you do.”

Carmilla buries her face in Laura’s shoulder and Laura wraps her arms around her.

“She always took care of me. She was the only one who did for such a long time. I thought Maman loved me.” She shrugs. “Now I’m not even sure.”

“Love can come in many shapes and sizes,” Laura says, “And it isn’t always healthy.”

Carmilla hesitates for a second and whispers, “I think our love is healthy.”

Laura smiles shyly. “I think so too.” 

Carmilla melts into her hug and Laura presses a kiss to her cheek. 

“You want to go for a walk?” Laura asks.

She shakes her head as she sit back again. “No, I think I’d prefer to stay here right now.”

Carmilla quickly dries her tears.

“It’s okay to cry, Carm,” Laura says as she squeezes her hand. 

She smiles. “I know, it’s just-” she gets stuck in her own words.

“I know,” Laura says and pecks her on the lips. She knows Carmilla’s mother had taught her that crying is a sign of weakness. Showing any emotion, really.

They both fall silent for a moment, and Laura softly strokes her thumb against Carmilla’s hand in an effort to comfort her.

“Maman has lost track of us though,” Carmilla says trying to sound relieved. 

“What do you mean?”

“Her last statement, she never would’ve said that unless it was her last chance to mess with me,” Carmilla explains. “Jean-Pierre’s plan worked. We’re untraceable.”

“Then at least he didn’t die for nothing,” Laura says, and they both fall silent at the words. They had heard the news from LaFontaine, but still, neither of them can really believe it. 

“I know you don’t want to, but is it okay if I go for fresh air for a bit?” Laura asks suddenly. 

Carmilla nods. 

Laura quickly kisses her cheek again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

\--

Carmilla shoves the old gramophone, that she found somewhere on a dump, out of the corner of the living room, and plants it on the table. They have no room to store it properly, but she doesn’t want to get rid of it either. It took her a while to get the gramophone running again, since she’s in no way a technician, but the moment it worked again she had felt so satisfied. Something she hasn’t been able to feel in a long time. Something, she doesn’t feel right now. 

Which is weird, because she _should_ be satisfied that her Mother is locked up forever. It worked. She is safe. Laura is safe. Yet the numbness that has spread over her entire body begs to differ. 

She picks the only record she has laying in the apartment. They actually didn’t have enough money to spare this month to buy it, but when Carmilla had heard it play in the music store, she simply had to. No record has ever left such an impression on her. Laura heard it once and doesn’t want it to be played in the apartment again. The song scares her. It scares Carmilla too, it haunts her. That is exactly the point. 

She slides the record out of the sleeve and lets her eyes settle on the name. _Strange Fruit_ performed by Billie Holiday. She remembers the times when she had listened to her other music in Germany, before. How upbeat those songs were. How she had danced with Laura to them, with the curtains drawn and the music filling their apartment like sand pouring into an hourglass. That makes it sound like simpler days, but Carmilla knows that’s not true. Maybe they look like that right now, but they never were simpler or happier. Different, maybe. But it wasn’t a happier time for a lot of people. There never really has been a happier time.

She places the needle on the record and a soft rustling noise fills the air around her. Carmilla slowly sinks to her knees and then lets herself lay on the ground. The song starts with a loud piano key and the haunting trumpet solo seems to play itself. Goosebumps spread over her skin when Billie Holiday starts singing in her raw voice. 

_Southern trees bear strange fruit,  
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root, _

Carmilla understands what she is singing about, and at the same time she doesn’t. She has seen the violence against Jews. She has seen the violence against people like her. Against people who are ‘un-German’. Who would’ve thought that the States are no different, except instead of Jewish people, they torture black people. 

_Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,  
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees._

The image of postcards depicting lynch parties, displayed in shop windows pop into her brain. That’s all she ever saw, that’s all she needed to see to know it wasn’t any different here. This wasn’t paradise. It only ever was in her imagination. In reality, it is just a slightly different cage to be stuck in, with countless other traps to look out for.

_Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,  
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh._

As if she needed another reminder of how horrible humanity could be. As if enough lives hadn’t already been taken.

_Here is fruit for the crows to pluck_

This is why she doesn’t want to care about the world, because the world doesn’t care about her. It doesn’t care about a lot of people and it probably never will. 

_Here is a strange and bitter crop._

Holiday’s last note shakes her to her bones, and then with a sudden thud the song comes to an end. Carmilla takes a moment to recover as she stares at the ceiling. The song reminds her that she can still feel. Maybe the problem is that she is feeling too much right now, so much that her entire system shut down. But she does care for the world. For the people she loves. Yet she still has come to realize that Maman can no longer be on that list, even though for most of her life she was the only one on there.

She shakes herself out of her thoughts and gets up to take the needle off the record again. Her eyes not leaving the title. The postcards. The people.

Carmilla huffs. Third Reich. Land of the Free. It's all the same. It's all one big joke. 

\--

It doesn’t occur to Carmilla to worry, for the first hour or so. But then she looks up and sees how much time has passed since Laura left for a walk, and suddenly all she can think about is all the bad things that could happen to a woman wandering alone through the city.

She spends five minutes morbidly considering that if something has happened to Laura, at least the last words that they spoke to one another were to say that they love each other. Then she shakes herself out of it.

She doesn’t know that anything has happened to Laura - yet, at least. But she can’t seem to stop her brain from coming up with scenes of Laura being grabbed from behind by strange men as she walks, or falling and hurting herself, stranded alone in the park she always likes to walk through, because of it’s solitude.

Damn it, she can’t just sit here wondering. 

She leaps to her feet and strides across the room to snatch up her jacket and her keys. She walks out of the apartment, completely focused on getting to the park and finding Laura.

She barely notices anything on the walk there, striding along the sidewalk and dodging other pedestrians. The busy streets of New York blur past her, Carmilla sparing not a thought for any of the countless faces that pass her by. They are none of them who Carmilla is really looking for. 

She arrives at the park to find that there are only a few people strolling on the paths. Carmilla doesn’t see Laura anywhere. She reaches the centre of the park and turns in a circle, scanning the park for any sign of her girlfriend. The panic in her chest rises and she feels her throat fill with bile. 

She stands in the park for twenty minutes, scanning every face that passes by her, before she gives in and starts the walk home. 

Carmilla spends the walk forcing herself to not let panic overwhelm her. It is a losing battle, and by the time she opens the apartment door her heart is racing in anticipation of what she will find. Her worst nightmares vanish like smoke when she sees that Laura is standing in the kitchen.

“Oh god, you’re home!” Carmilla says, relief washing over her.

“Yeah, I just got back, where have you-”

Laura falls silent as Carmilla rushes towards Laura and pulls her into her arms in a crushing embrace.

“What happened? What did I do?” Laura says, a bit overwhelmed.

“I thought something happened to you,” Carmilla whispers.

“Carm- you’re crushing me,” Laura says breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry!” Carmilla says and loosens her grip. She looks up into Laura’s eyes and kisses her softly. 

“You really got so worried?” Laura asks carefully. 

“You were gone for at least three hours and when I looked in the park you weren’t there so-” Carmilla slightly frowns. “Wait, where _were_ you?” 

Laura’s face breaks into a wide grin and she wrestles herself out of Carmilla’s grip. “You should close your eyes.”

“ _Laura..._ ”

“I mean it!” Laura says, laughing. “Close your eyes.” 

Carmilla rolls with her eyes before closing them. Her smile gives her away though. 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Laura says and the sound of her footsteps disappear in the direction of their bedroom. 

“If this is one of those times you’re going to _surprise_ me with kisses I’m just saying you should probably think of something different very fast.” 

She hears Laura’s footsteps entering the room again, a lot less rushed this time. “That won’t be necessary.” 

“You should hold your hands out- but hold them closely together.”

Carmilla does as she says. “I swear if this is gross, you’ll pay, cupcake.” 

“You’ll see.”

Laura hands over something soft and small, but Carmilla can also feel something that would be a fur, something that’s breathing. 

“Open your eyes,” Laura whispers.

Two small soft green eyes stare at Carmilla and she sees she has a tiny black kitten in her hands. 

“You bought us a cat?” Carmilla asks unbelievable and immediately cuddles it closer.

“I thought we could use the company.” 

She can feel herself getting emotional as she carefully strokes the kitten. “That’s what you did when you were out?” 

“Yeah, I was at the animal shelter,” Laura smiles fondly at how young Carmilla suddenly looks. It’s exactly what she needed.

Carmilla looks up at her and gives Laura a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re such a softie,” Laura says with a fond grin.

For once Carmilla lets the comment slide, as she is entirely caught up with their new pet. 

Laura clears her throat. “I do have one request though.”

Carmilla softly rubs her nose against the kitten’s before looking back up at her girlfriend.

“Anything,” she smiles.

Laura bites her lip and then meets Carmilla’s eyes. “We call her Lola.”

New York Daily Journal - _Will Roosevelt win the election?_

Nov. 3, 1940 - This Tuesday the United States of America will go vote for their new president! The race will predominantly be between current president Franklin D. Roosevelt and republican candidate Wendell Willkie. However most newspapers have predicted that Roosevelt will be elected for a third term. In his final public election speech last saturday night he first and foremost declared his intention to keep the US out of the war that is spreading across Europe. His second point was to make sure the war in Europe will stay as far away from the Western coast as possible. Furthermore he declared to send as much material as needed to help out those who are fighting against Germany. It goes without saying that those countries hope for Roosevelt to be re-elected. Let us hope the war won’t affect us and the crisis within Europe will be solved quickly. Let’s vote, America! 

Carmilla pulls on her coat and then notices that Laura is still absorbed, reading her comic book. 

“Are you coming, Lois Lane?”

Laura looks up in surprise. “What, is it time already?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let me just finish this page-”

“ _Laura_ ,” Carmilla says with a laugh. “We’ve been over this, no reading when we’re meeting a friend.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Laura says with a small pout and stands up to set the comic book back on one of the shelves of their small bookcase. 

They built the bookcase together after Carmilla found some useable wood down on the road. It’s absolutely ugly and the shelves are all crooked, but it fits their tiny apartment perfectly. And the comic books needed a place to be stored ever since Laura’s collection has started to get out of hand, due to her obsession with Lois Lane. 

It’s hilarious to Carmilla that their bookcases in Frankfurt were filled with books by renowned philosophers, and now they have been replaced by simple comic books. Admittedly, they are fun to read and they’ve helped Laura’s English improve tremendously. 

Laura gives a small nod of approval as the comic is perfectly placed back again, and seems to be heading for the bathroom. “Let me just put-”

“No, too late!” Carmilla says and spreads her arms so Laura can’t get past her. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks and I’m not going to let you make us late.”

Laura cracks up at the sight and gives in. “Okay, you win. Did you feed Lola though?” 

“Yes I fed Lola, now lets go,” Carmilla says as she hands Laura her coat. 

Carmilla gives her a quick peck on the lips before opening the door. “We still need to pick up LaFontaine from the hospital.” 

\--

The cool autumn air blows softly through the streets. It’s different from Frankfurt, Laura thinks, but that’s probably due to the unfamiliar ocean air. Or maybe it’s not different at all, but it still _feels_ different. It’s like she just cannot get used to living in New York, no matter how hard she tries. They walk along a movie theatre, and it reaffirms exactly why she can’t get used to this place. 

"I hate this country," Laura says bitterly as they pass a movie poster. It's Charlie Chaplin's latest movie. The Great Dictator. A satire of their nation, or more specifically of Hitler.

"Our struggles should not be a joke," Laura continues. "There are people dying!"

Her voice trembles and she looks at Carmilla. "Can't they see that? Don't they understand how much we suffer? Why are we the buttjoke of this society?"

"Laura, we haven't even watched that m-"

"And I wish to keep it that way," Laura cuts her off.

Sometimes it was a blessing that they could speak German to each other in public. 

"Why can't they see this is a traumatic experience for us?"

"I think they do see it," Carmilla says trying to calm her. "But maybe all we humans can do sometimes is to try to make light of traumatic experiences. Otherwise nothing else will reduce the pain."

"Yeah well," Laura says and considers Carmilla's words for a second, not really sure what she was going for. "Fuck those people."

Neither of them speaks again until they’ve reached the hospital. They know the route to the wing LaFontaine works on by heart. LaF should be done with their shift by now. When they walk into the department they see LaF is in the staff room, already dressed in street clothes and packing their bag. Laura and Carmilla stand in front of the window and knock softly at the glass to get their attention.

LaFontaine looks up and a smile appears on their face. They give them a gesture they should come in.

“It is good you to see!” Laura tries in her best English as they walk into the room. 

“To see you,” Carmilla corrects her. 

Laura nods and makes a mental note of it. She still struggles with the construction of her sentences. 

“Good to see you two, too,” LaF smiles. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Carmilla says. “I mean, our jobs still suck, but they pay the rent and Lola is keeping all the mice out of our apartment.”

Carmilla looks at her, and for a moment Laura thinks Carmilla is going to remind her of the first time they arrived at their apartment and Laura was scared of a mouse, but she says something completely different. “Oh! and we recently saw an employment ad for a German paper here in New York. It’s a small local one, but Laura has applied.” 

“Good for you! You’re trying to get back in journalism?” 

“Yes. The factory sucks,” Laura says with a nervous laugh. “And my English is not good yet. So I try to work for a German paper!” 

There’s a small pause before Laura adds. “Sadly there is no work at _Daily Planet._ ” 

Carmilla starts sniggering and LaFontaine looks confusedly between the two of them. 

“What?”

“It’s a comic reference, don’t worry about it,” Carmilla waves it off. 

Laura grins at Carmilla before turning back to LaFontaine. “How are you doing?”

They seem to sober a bit at the question. “It’s fine. I mean, working as a doctor here at the hospital is an honor. It’s really rewarding to see people get better. And of course I have you guys, so I can’t complain.”

They both nod in understanding, they know what LaFontaine is talking about. It feels ungrateful to complain about anything, when they’ve been so lucky.

“It could’ve been much worse,” Carmilla says. “We’re forever grateful that Jean-Pierre helped us. We would never be able to repay him.”

“You can add me to that list as well,” LaFontaine says as they bite their lip. “He deserved so much more than he ever got.”

Carmilla hesitates for a second. “Do you know how he…” she leaves her sentence unfinished. Laura gives her girlfriend a careful look, neither of them has had the heart to asks this question before.

“The official report stated that he was killed in combat,” LaF answers her unspoken question, and shakes their head helplessly. “He wasn’t in combat that day, so somebody in the military is trying to cover something up. God knows what they’ve done to him.” 

Laura puts a comforting hand on their shoulder. “Please do not worry too much.”

They shrug. “I can’t help it. I’ve known him my entire life and it just keeps _nagging_ you, y’know?” 

Laura can see they are fighting tears and embraces them in a big hug. “He was a good man.”

“He really was,” they whisper. 

When Laura lets go off them she sees LaF quickly wiping away a tear from the corner of their eye. 

They paste back on their smile, but it doesn’t reach their eyes just yet. “Anyway, lets not waste our time talking in the hospital, we had this day planned for weeks after all.” 

\--

They have to cross a big part of New York before they even get to Fifth Avenue, and even then Carmilla is reminded how long a street can go on for here in the United States. It’s so different to Europe, where they clearly didn’t use mathematics to build the roads. The streets in Frankfurt feel more organic though, but at least getting lost in New York is almost impossible. She looks ahead and can already see the large building on the left side of the street. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. A smile appears on her face and she nudges Laura lightly.

“Look,” Carmilla says and points in the distance. “There it is.” 

Laura follows her finger and Carmilla can see she is impressed. The building is imposing, the facade decorated with columns and archways, reaching far higher than the buildings on either side. The staircase that leads to the main entrance manages to look as stately as any staircase in the mansions Carmilla spent so much of her childhood in.

“It looks gorgeous,” Laura tells her.

“I bet it looks even better inside,” she says to Laura, eyes bright. 

Carmilla knows it’s impossible to hide her excitement. Ever since she heard of the museum, back when she was still a teenager, she has wanted to visit it. They’ve been in New York for over a year now, but it didn’t occur to them to visit before. Or when it did, it didn’t feel right. It had taken a while to adjust to their new lives. Especially Laura, who has had her fair share of struggles to find her place in the big city. She still finds it difficult. Carmilla has lost count how many times Laura had cried, or wished to see her father again. 

She knows that they left things very messily back in Frankfurt. Sometimes she wonders what happened to their apartment, or to the people she had known there. But worrying about it doesn’t help, because at the end of the day they made the decision together. At the end of the day, she can hold Laura close and whisper _I love you_ ’s in her ear until Laura’s heart will ache less. That’s all that matters to Carmilla. 

“Where’s LaFontaine?” Laura suddenly asks, shaking Carmilla out of her thoughts. 

Carmilla looks over her shoulder and sees they aren’t following them anymore. 

She gives Laura a worried look, but Laura keeps looking behind them and then her face lights up. 

“There they are!” she says and waves at them. 

Carmilla follows her gaze and sees LaFontaine waving back as they rush to them. 

“Sorry! I saw one of my old patients on the street. Couldn’t help but stop by and hand him my lunch,” they apologies as they have arrived next to them. Their smile seems as genuine as it has ever been. Helping others certainly seems to help LaFontaine. 

When LaF sees they both seem slightly confused as to why they would give away their lunch, they quickly add, “He’s a homeless war veteran. I know Scooter takes care of him.” 

“Scooter takes care of war veterans who are traumatized, right?” 

LaF nods. “Especially those who ended up homeless. He volunteers at a dozen places and every day he walks around New York to check on several of the veterans. That man has a heart the size of an elephant.” 

Laura and Carmilla hum in agreement. Without Scooter they would’ve probably ended up homeless as well. 

“I understand now how JP got through the Great War. If only Scooter had been able to help him after,” they say and Carmilla can see the sadness in their eyes. 

“But it’s nice, you know?” LaFontaine immediately says when they notice they trailed off. “I talked to him about Jean-Pierre and it helps. Exchanging stories and all.” 

“I’m glad it helps, Doc,” Carmilla says and offers them an escape of the heavy subject by gesturing at the building. “You want to check out some art?” 

LaFontaine smiles at her thankfully. “That’s why I tagged along after all.” 

\-- 

All three let out a small gasp when they walk into the Museum of Art. The entrance is large and airy, ribbons of light pouring in from the high reaches of the domed roof. 

“Where do we even begin to look?” Laura says as she lets her eyes trail over the different corridors. 

“I want to wander through the entire building, so I couldn’t care less,” Carmilla says. 

LaFontaine, who picked up a map from one of the stands, suggests. “I see there is a gallery of Egyptian art. We can start there?” 

They nod in agreement and walk towards the gallery, dawdling so as to take in everything they see on their way there. In the Egyptian gallery they are greeted by a big statue of a black panther. 

Laura giggles softly and looks at Carmilla. “Look, it’s you as a giant black cat.” 

She frowns. “Why do you always say that whenever we see something remotely resembling a black cat?” 

Laura shrugs and gives her a grin. “I guess it’s your personality.” 

“Hm, or maybe instead you could associate it with something a bit more meaningful like Kipling’s Bagheera,” Carmilla suggests out loud. 

When Laura doesn’t reply, Carmilla sees she is caught up in the description that is displayed next to the statue. Her eyes twinkle playfully as she carefully walks closer to Laura. 

“Or maybe it’s Lola when she grows bigger and _bigger_ ,” with the last word she grabs Laura’s shoulders as if her hands are claws. 

Laura lets out a shriek and turns around. “Holy crap, don’t do that!” 

Carmilla bursts out laughing and immediately puts a hand in front of her mouth when her laughter echoes in the hall and she is reminded that they are in a _museum_ and she shouldn’t be so loud. 

“You deserved that,” Laura says, meaning the echo. 

“It was too tempting.” 

“Hey, guys-” LaFontaine interrupts their little moment. “I really want to see the Oceanian gallery, so what do you say if I go ahead and we meet back here in an hour?” 

Carmilla feels a sting of guilt, because LaF must be feeling like a third wheel in the company of her and Laura. “Y-yeah sure, Doc.” 

LaFontaine gives Carmilla a wink before walking off, and relief washes over her when she realizes that they don’t mind and LaFontaine is actually giving them some privacy to explore the museum together. 

Carmilla almost reaches for Laura’s hand, before she reminds herself that they are still in public and can’t show that sort of affection. Instead she offers her a smile. “You coming?” 

Together they walk through the galleries. It’s a quiet day at the museum, and while there are other people in the galleries, none of them are crowded. Laura and Carmilla chatter about the art they see, but the longer they are wandering around, the quieter Laura becomes. 

When they’re alone in a small room full of paintings somewhere on the first floor Carmilla turns to her. 

“Is something wrong?” Carmilla asks. 

Laura immediately shakes her head. “No, I mean it’s lovely. It’s beautiful here. It’s just-” 

She lets out a sigh. "It feels wrong, you know? To walk around so blissfully, looking at art, while we turned our back on so many people. We shouldn't get rewarded for such a huge mess." 

"As if the universe hands out rewards to those who deserve it." 

Laura sighs at her answer and mumbles, “You know what I mean…” 

Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have given such a philosophical answer. 

“Yeah, I understand, but what choice did we have back in Péronne?” Carmilla says. “What choice do we have now but to move on with our lives?” 

Laura looks to her. “Don’t you think it’s wrong?” 

She rubs her temple and keeps her eyes on the art. “Honestly, the dichotomy between right and wrong is exhausting. It doesn’t exist. Whether what we did is hypothetically wrong isn’t important. We made a choice, _that’s_ important.” 

In the corner of her eye she sees that Laura is still staring at her. She knows that wasn’t the answer Laura was looking for, but what else can she say, really? 

Carmilla lets out a sigh before meeting her girlfriend’s eyes. “Look- I’m not trying to justify the things I’ve done in my life by saying there is no right or wrong. I know I’ve hurt a lot of people with the work I did for Maman. And I know technically I should be in jail, but- the world isn’t fair. So yes, things have worked out for us in a pretty good way. Would you be happier if they had caught me and you had to visit me every week in jail?” 

“I don’t know,” Laura shrugs, “Maybe there would be sense of justice to it, but I definitely wouldn’t prefer it.” 

Carmilla nods, it makes sense Laura would think that. “The way I see it, there is little to no justice in this world anyway, as cruel as it may sound. Yes, I did some dirty work, and yes we fled the scene when it was convenient. But right at this moment people are getting systematically murdered. In five years time nobody is going to care what I did. I mean, think about it, after the war, no matter which side wins, people will be absolved of crimes much worse than mine.” 

“Still. I can’t help but feel it is unfair,” Laura whispers, turning back to the painting in front of them. “We never should’ve gotten a second chance.” 

“I know,” she replies. “But anyone with a reason to live would’ve done what we did.” 

Carmilla quickly glances around, but they are still alone in the room. She lets her eyes rest on Laura, and their hands slightly brush. She could say the words right here, right now. She said them before and she will say them again. Just three words. Why is it suddenly so hard to say them out loud? 

“Hey,” Laura meets her worried eyes and squeezes her hand. She gives Carmilla a warm smile. 

“You’re my reason too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading our fic! We had an absolute blast writing it and we hope you enjoyed reading it! If you don't want to leave 30s AU just yet, there is a LaF's and JP's backstory that is definitely worth checking out and there's also a backstory through Lilita's PoV in which she adopts Carmilla. Both can be found under the 'series' button! **Also!**[ Fem has liveblogged 30s AU with 'director's commentary'](http://bannedfromzoos.tumblr.com/tagged/30s+au+liveblog/chrono) and [Elli has given her additional thoughts.](http://ellianderjoy.tumblr.com/tagged/30s-au-liveblog/chrono) Definitely check that out if you want to see the work we put into this fic!


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